BG01B-A Cold and Silent Night
by VST
Summary: While on a dangerous, long-range scouting mission, a badly outnumbered Starbuck must use the words of a Colonial hymn to help him deal with a horrible loss and also deal with those responsible for it. Complete!
1. Prelude: Assignment & Stanza 1: Crossing

**BG01B-A Cold and Silent Night  
** by VStarTraveler

 ** _Summary:_** _While on a dangerous, long-range scouting mission, a badly outnumbered Starbuck must use the words of a Colonial hymn to help him deal with a horrible loss and also deal with those responsible for it._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _This story is a work of fiction, written entirely for fun and not for profit. This interpretation of the world of Battlestar Galactica is entirely my own, and Battlestar Galactica and all of its various components remain the property of their respective owners._

 _That said, the poem used here, attributed to the ancient Colonial poet, V'Starius, is my own work, and I alone am totally responsible for it and the imperfections that it contains._

 ** _Author's Note:_** _This story takes place a few weeks/sectons after the events of the episode "Gun on Ice Planet Zero."_

* * *

 **Prelude: Assignment**

 _On the bridge of the Battlestar Galactica:_

"Commander, we've picked up Cylon signals in this system." Colonel Tigh looked worried.

"Colonel, order all ships to communications lockdown. Low power, short range ship to ship only. Only ships in visual range. No Interfleet broadcasts, no long range communication with our patrols."

Tigh nodded. "Yes, sir." Turning to Sergeant Omega, he merely said, "Send it. Request Priority One receipt of orders."

Omega, who had already typed the order from Colonel Tigh that was almost verbatim from Adama's instructions quickly added the last part and then sent the message. Responses confirming receipt of the order started showing up on the screen just microns later. Less than a centon later, Omega said, "All ships acknowledge, Sir."

"Thank you, Omega," replied Commander Adama. Turning to Colonel Tigh, he said in a soft voice, "Who's assigned to run the mission to check the belt today?"

"That's Lieutenant Starbuck, sir."

"And his wingmate?"

Tigh wasn't sure so he glanced questioningly at Omega. The sergeant glanced at his screen, made a few keystrokes, and then looked up with a strange look on his face. "Uh, Cadet Cree, Sir."

"Do you think we should...?" Tigh also looked apprehensive.

Adama shook his head, though there was concern showing on his face, too. "No, let's let them work it out. Starbuck has been working very closely with that kid since the ice planet, trying to get him up to speed, so he'll know best if Cree is ready or if he needs to request a replacement for the mission. Either way, just make sure both Warriors understand the comm lockdown order and tell them to be careful."

* * *

 **Stanza 1: Crossing**

 _When one would cross to distant star,  
Across dark space 'tween points of light,  
Til man, alone, discerns how far,  
How cold and silent is the night._

— ** _The Spacefarer's Ode_** ,  
by V'Starius Travelerian, circa 6100.  
 _A Colonial Warrior's Hymn_

* * *

 _Several centars later as they neared their destination:_

"Starbuck, why would the Commander even think about taking the Fleet so close to an asteroid field?"

"Cree, first, it's not really a field; it's a belt."

The ensuing silence told Starbuck what he needed to know. The young cadet in the adjacent Colonial Viper wasn't following. Since they were traveling so close together that they could see each other in the dim light of the cockpit and with their helmets glowing, the lieutenant avoided his first impulse to shake his head.

Starbuck had taken a special interest in the young man for the past few sectons since the events on the ice planet Aracta. There, after feeling responsible for Cree's capture, he'd rescued the kid, the team had succeeded in blowing up the Ravashol Pulsar, and, at least temporarily, the fleet had escaped from the Cylons. All-in-all, it had been a pretty good cycle worthy of celebrating, but there seemed to be something of a hole remaining in Starbuck's heart. He didn't really understand it but, somehow, he just felt responsible for the kid.

Because of that, he'd been exercising a degree more patience than he would with most other young hotshot pilots straight out of the academy. Therein lay the second part of the problem. That the "academy" was now centered on the Galactica rather than back home on Caprica might have added a bit more weight to his concern, and that Starbuck and most of the other senior Warriors served as teachers or assistants for the new trainees and cadets added to that. That Cree was still only a cadet rather than an actual graduate was the final straw. Starbuck had almost replaced Cree for the mission when Colonel Tigh gave him the chance, but Starbuck realized that showing his lack of trust in the kid's skills and judgment might do more damage to the cadet's development than taking him along. Thus, they found themselves together as they approached the outskirts of the rather densely populated asteroid belt.

Drawing a breath, he used his at-least-somewhat-patient voice to explain. "Ya' see, everything in there is orbiting this dinky little star, and it has been for untold ages. The scientists tell us it's about as stable, celestially speaking, as you're ever going to get. It's not like they're spinning around real fast and smashing into each other, turning everything into dust like you see in the silly vidnet shows. You know, where the hotshot pilot in the oversized ship is always out flying the bad guys in the fighter craft, zipping in and out of the flying boulders. Well, that's just crazy, made-up felgercarb."

Cree laughed, as if remembering just such a scene. He paused for a moment before saying, "I guess they would all be dust pretty quick if it was like in the vids, wouldn't they?"

Starbuck smiled. The kid seemed to be catching on...at least to part of it. "Well, possibly, but gravitational pull comes into play. Every little piece, even little tiny specs, has a tiny bit of mass and they exert tiny little influences on each other. An asteroid belt has lots and lots of those parts and pieces and little specks, but they're all pretty friendly with each other since they've been there as neighbors for so long and had time to get stabilized. You know, getting used to each other so all their gravitational pulls, as small as they are, work together. Don't get me wrong. Scientists say that there may be collisions occasionally, but that's usually due to things like comets or rogue asteroids that aren't part of the belt zipping through and disturbing what one of my profs once described as 'the delicate gravitational balance.'"

"It still sounds pretty dangerous to me," said Cree. "Sure, it may not happen often, but I'd rather not give them a chance."

"That's probably the best course of action," agreed Starbuck, "but sometimes we just don't have a choice. I said they're generally pretty friendly with each other, at least as friendly as rocks can be with each other. If you've got to go in there with them, you basically have to be friendly with them, too. When venturing into one of those belts, you have to be careful to go with them in the same general direction, travel at about the same speed, and not stir up any problems. Follow those general rules, you have a chance of making it out safely. If by some chance you do stir up problems in an asteroid belt, your best bet is to get out. Fast."

"Well, if you say so, Lieutenant, but it still seems pretty silly to me, running the Fleet right past it on our survey course. A few stray pebbles shooting out just right at just the right time could do lots of damage and make us all sorry. It just doesn't make much sense."

Starbuck hated to admit it, but the kid had a point. Of course, there was a bit more to it than that. They'd already detected Cylon activity in the system, so all of the ships of the Fleet, including their Vipers, were traveling on communications silence. Their ship-to-ship comm system was set for visual range only to avoid the Cylons picking up their chatter. They were under strict orders not to try to contact the Fleet, too. Therefore, the senior officer decided to give the simple version of the explanation.

"Well, the ships of the Fleet have electroshielding and thick durasteel hulls that generally protect them from the little micrometeors we can't see. It either bumps them out of the way if they're on an oblique angle, or if they're heading right at us, it's like a meteor entering a planet's atmosphere and burning up. If there's anything left by the time it hits the hull, there's usually not much damage. Our shipboard shielding also deflects the small meteors we may or may not see, and our sensors detect the ones that are too big so we can steer clear of them or increase power to the point we can bounce them off. Does all of that make sense, Cree?"

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant," agreed the young cadet. "I guess so."

Starbuck stifled a sigh. "Now, not to say you couldn't still be right. It could potentially cause us trouble if there were pieces flying out of the belt's orbit like that, because if they come at us at an angle and they bounce off one ship's shielding, they could be deflected and hit another ship, and so on. Fortunately, astrophysical science tells us that shouldn't be the case. That's why we're here; to prove that science is right or to figure out why it isn't."

Cree repeated doubtfully, "Well, if you say so, Sir." Pausing for a moment, he added, "You said, 'first.' Does that mean there's another reason?"

"Yep." Starbuck smiled to himself. The cadet might not understand it all, but he was definitely learning and picking up on the finer points. Starbuck would have to watch out for that if he ever had to play a hand of pyramid with the kid.

"Remember in school when you learned that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line? Well, the Commander will assure you that the next shortest distance is almost a straight line when the straight line goes through the middle of the asteroid belt. We're still heading toward the point where we'll be able to engage the jump drive engines to go to the next system, but we're bowing out of the celestial plane of this system to go just outside the asteroid field and then we'll bow back down to get back on course. If we had to go around the system outside of the belt, it would be a lot further."

Starbuck had hated some of his classes at the academy, but he had generally listened when he'd gone to class, even to the officers who were boring. This was one of those subjects that had come easy to him, that he'd just understood instinctively. Therefore, he launched into another discussion of fuel usage and the effects of gravity. As a Viper pilot, he had an excellent understanding of both and the physics and mechanics that went along with them. He was still in the middle of answering Cree's first question when the scanner alarm sounded.

"Lieutenant, I'm picking up three Cylon Raiders! They're coming out of the asteroid field. Belt."

Having his scanner set to a different but overlapping setting, Starbuck replied, "Uh, and you should now see three more right behind them on your short range scanner." Starbuck hit the switch, extending the scanner range. "And three more a little way behind them. They're all heading straight for us. On my mark, let's return the favor. Hit your turbos and head straight for them." It was critical to take out the first three before the others arrived to even the odds. "Now!"

Both men hit their turbothrusters, launching toward the incoming Cylons at a high rate of speed. "Cree, take the left one."

"What about the second and third waves, Sir?"

"Cree, they probably won't matter if we don't take care of these. Besides, they're over 20 microns behind and then the last—" _hopefully!_ he thought, "—another 20 behind them. That's an eternity out here," said Starbuck, knowing that they'd both be spending eternity here if they weren't careful…and lucky.

Centering his targeting reticule on the center incoming ship, Starbuck pressed the red "Fire" button one, two, three times, and was pleased to see an explosion ahead. Cree fired at his opponent as the third ship spiraled off to the right, leaving Starbuck inadequate time to shift his aim to that ship as he'd planned. Incoming fire from the left side indicated that Cree had missed.

Frack! Two on two, one of whom would have trouble fighting his way out of a thin polymer bag, with the odds about to change drastically away from their favor in mere microns. "Pull up, now!" he called as he pulled back on the stick.

Slicing upward, Starbuck led the way as he arced off to the right, with Cree trailing behind. "Stay with me, buddy," he called. "We're going to have to cut into this belt, find one of the bigger rocks, slip down under it, and then try to get away from these guys if we ever want to get home." Within microns, they'd shot into the edge of the asteroid belt and adjusted course parallel to the asteroids' orbit.

"Lieutenant, there's five of them now, and they're—"

"Shooting at us," finished Starbuck as he finished the turn, knowing that three more would be arriving soon. "Cree, do a two micron turbothruster burst on my mark. I'm going to drop back to take out the two close ones while they're going after you. Ready, now!"

As Cree's Viper shot forward with the turbothrusters firing, Starbuck hit the IM reverse thruster button on his own ship. The baffles in his ship's engines' deployed, creating a reverse thrust that slowed his ship tremendously, allowing the two nearest Cylons to shoot past him. The next three were only a few microns behind so he had to hurry.

His thumb came off the button and, with a tweak of the stick, he was aligned on the right Raider. Just as he triggered to fire, both Raiders unleashed their own bursts into the darkness ahead. An explosion flared in the distance, but it was at that moment that the right Raider exploded into a brilliant starburst that filled Starbuck's canopy screen. The internal dampeners in the thick transparent material did their work in reducing the flare to keep the explosion from blinding him, but he still winced at the closeness of the blast. Glancing down slightly at his scanner screen, he saw the left Raider slant off to the left.

Increasing power on his comm system even as he increased his speed, he called, "Cree! Got one! Hang on, be back with you in a moment."

He was about to jerk his stick to follow the fleeing Raider when a loud, crackling noise came over his Viper's comm system. That told Starbuck that something had happened, something bad, but the silence that followed made it even worse. Since it hadn't happened to his ship, that only left Cree's. Looking ahead, he saw nothing and checking his scanner on a wider sweep, his cadet wingmate's ship was nowhere to be seen.

"Cree! Cree? Where are you, buddy?" called Starbuck as aligned on the Raider in the distance. It would be a long shot, but it should work. As his finger tightened on the trigger, his Viper suddenly shook violently and was knocked off course as he struck a small boulder making its way around the distant star. Widening the scan once more, neither Cree nor the Cylon Raider was visible, but the nearest flight of Raiders was almost on top of him with the others closing rapidly.

Reducing his scan and comm outputs to forward only, he reluctantly hit his turbos as he kept calling Cree's name. Seeing a large body ahead, he quickly slipped his Viper so that it paralleled the oblong, flying boulder that was about three kilometrons in length and one or two in width. With a few maneuvering bursts, he brought his ship into the shadowed side of the asteroid.

Cutting power so he was moving parallel and just a few metrons above the big asteroid, he waited, five, ten microns.

In the distance, he saw two and then two more parallel flares. "Raiders," he said to himself as they disappeared from sight. He waited a few more microns before seeing what appeared to be a couple more, but it was so far away he couldn't be sure. Taking a risk, he activated his ship to ship comm on low power once more and called out, "Cree. Cree?" Increasing output power once more to the point that he knew it would be well beyond the range that Cree could have traveled, he called out again, but once more, there was no response.

He immediately cut the power and hoped the Cylons hadn't detected, or if they had, hadn't had time to triangulate back on his signal.

Thinking back, he remembered that first explosion when the Raiders had fired. That had been Cree's ship.

"Frack! Oh, kid! I am so sorry." He'd used the kid as bait with the turbo burst, but somehow the Cylons had still been close enough to hit him. Balled fists pounded down on his thighs as he cursed several more times. The last was barely audible. His head slowly fell forward and, in the cold darkness of space, Starbuck was once more surrounded by silence.

~BSG~

 ** _Author's Note:_** _I hope you've enjoyed this first part of the story. Your reviews, follows, and favorites will be greatly appreciated._


	2. Intermezzo 1: Callout

**Intermezzo 1: Callout**

 _About 14 yahrens earlier:_

It was getting late and the assignment wasn't any closer to being completed. Cadet (Second Class) Starbuck was in the Academy library wondering how a poem written over a millennia earlier could really have any relevance to modern Warriors. It talked about the vastness of space and all, but the old poet had probably never been there to experience it himself and ships were so much faster now anyway. No one just poked around taking forever to get somewhere.

His eyebrows shot up as he realized he could use that very thought so he set about entering it. Looking at his data pad, he saw that he had only 463 more words to go. He sighed, exaggeratedly, and read back through what he'd written. A few tweaks later, he was down to only 457 more words.

Shaking his head, he looked back over at the book and read the poem for probably the fiftieth time.

He really needn't have bothered since he had it memorized by this point. Having heard the song version of the poem in chapel before, he was even humming it softly as he silently read the words again, looking for any hidden meaning that he might draw from the written page. He usually used the electronic copy on his pad, but for this assignment, the last for the term for this _stupid_ class— _thank the Lords!_ —he was having to pull out all the stops and all the tricks at his disposal.

 _Song! That's it._

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. A few centons later, he was down to only 297 more words. His eyes went back toward the book, but something in his peripheral vision drew them upward and over to the side.

His look drew a smile from the young woman at the end of a nearby aisle. She was wearing a very shapely but casual blue dress with matching blue sandals instead of a cadet's uniform, but it was after hours so that wasn't really unusual. Her curly dark hair fell just below her shoulders and her eyes remained locked with his as the right side of her cheek dimpled from a crooked grin.

Realizing he was staring and holding his breath, Starbuck looked away only to hear a little giggle. This young woman was confident enough that she couldn't be in Fourth Class (and she didn't appear to be wearing the required plebe pin anyway), so she had to be in Third Class since she definitely wasn't in Second Class with him. He looked back up at her only to see her approaching as he suddenly realized that perhaps she was one of the few older women in First Class that he hadn't met. Women weren't in the Warrior track as he was, so it was possible.

Looking back, he found her directly across the table from him. "Hi, I'm Sangeera. And you are?" A svelte but assertive hand was in front of him, ready to be taken.

"Uh, I'm Starbuck. Ah, Cadet Second Class." He took her hand and gave it a little shake. As he did, he realized that he never felt this flustered with young women, but something about her caused him to lose his usually confident air.

"Well, Second Cadet, you've been staring at that book while I've done my research in three volumes, so I'm guessing it's either the most interesting book in the twelve worlds, the most boring book in the worlds, or," she added conspiratorially, "it has pictures of beautiful, naked women. So which is it?"

The playful way she included the last part caused him to grin unexpectedly before he flushed red, but her corresponding laugh relaxed him. "Boring, I'm afraid. An assignment that is driving me crazy."

"If I may have my hand back, perhaps I can help."

~BSG~

It had been a long night. Between finishing the report, which Sangeera assured him needed to be started again from scratch, sneaking her into his room, and their activities that followed, Starbuck was quite tired. He hoped that she had been able to get out of his room without being seen.

Turning to matters of the class, Starbuck sat wondering yet again why he was required to take this particular one. There were so many other classes where he could be learning something useful. Or fun. "Concepts of Classical Literature Applied in the Modern Worlds" was, in his mind, neither. Trying to get in the minds of authors who had died well before his time was bad enough, but being forced to write long papers on their works that varied from having no modern relevance, if they made sense at all, to being outright boring made it even worse. Of course, it had given him the opportunity to meet Sangeera. He mentally made a single mark in the positives column for the class versus all of the negatives.

 _Okay, it was a very big positive._ He grinned at the thought.

Sangeera had promised to meet him in the very same spot this very evening, and Starbuck had high hopes that things would pick up where they'd left off before they had finally fallen asleep together. His eyes closed as he pictured her in his arms and he started to exhale slowly as he heard her call his name—

"Second Cadet Starbuck? Mister Starbuck?"

Starbuck's eyes popped open as he felt an elbow bump his arm. His head snapped up as he realized that he must have dozed off. Glancing right, his friend Apollo in the next seat was shaking his head, suppressing a laugh, before nodding toward the front of the classroom.

Looking forward, Starbuck saw the professor, a short, squat non-military type if there ever was one, calling out his name again, louder this time, and more expectantly.

"Mister Starbuck! Front and center!"

As he made his way to the front, Starbuck wondered if Sangeera might have been caught and he would be making another trip to the academy commander's office, but he soon found that wasn't the case.

"Second Cadet Starbuck, face your classmates and tell us all why you are in this class."

That was a strange request, and the response was quite simple. "Because, sir, the Academy administration has deemed it required to be a First Cadet."

Professor Welwa sighed as he removed his spectacles and rubbed them with a little cloth fished from his pocket. "As I thought, Second Cadet. Thank you for shooting straight on your response."

Turning to the class, the stout man added, "In actuality, this class has been required since the founding of the Academy as a means of teaching critical thinking and the ability to analyze in terms of both the abstract and the actual. Most students eventually recognize this fact, but with only seven cycles left before term ends and you are all, hopefully, promoted to First Class and First Cadets, the abstract portion of our study, which I have mentioned at least 30 times over the course of the class, has seemingly eluded our friend, Second Cadet Starbuck. Let us take his most recent analysis paper, which you all submitted last secton. I was rather pleased with most of the analyses of the Blue Bard's works, but Mr. Starbuck seems to have either misunderstood the writer, misunderstood his works, or misunderstood the assignment. Cadet Starbuck, in just a few words, tell your classmates how you would summarize the Blue Bard's works."

Starbuck looked at his classmates in the amphitheater-like classroom. So many faces were staring at him, waiting for his response.

"Uh, they suck?"

His classmates laughed and a few were even nodding in agreement, but others, including Apollo, were giving him rather sympathetic looks.

Starbuck turned to see Professor Welwa giving him a frustrated stare as he raised a hand for silence. The man was about to speak again but the buzzer sounded to announce the end of class and everyone started getting up to go. Starbuck was about to join them when the professor said, "Not so fast, Second Cadet. We aren't quite done."

Starbuck turned a rather curious shade of red as several of the females in the class gave him teasing looks as they made their way by.

"Mr. Starbuck, I understand that you aren't really interested in this class," said the professor after the last student had exited. "You may even hate it, but you know that you must pass it to reach First Class, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Starbuck wasn't sure where he was going with this. As poor as his grades were in the class, there was no way he could fail it.

"Perhaps what you're not considering is that the participants in the advanced flight training class are to be announced in three cycles." The professor looked up questioningly at Starbuck over the top of his newly cleaned spectacles.

Starbuck's eyes narrowed. The AFT class, which was to be taught over the term break, would involve the top five students in the class. As the best student and the second best pilot in Second Class, Apollo was a shoe-in for the class, and Starbuck, as the best pilot with decent grades was also considered to be. "What do you mean, Professor?"

After checking that the door was still closed, Welwa said, "Since you shot straight with me a few centons ago, Mr. Starbuck, I'm going to give it straight right back to you. Some of the professors have called your grades and your attitude into question. I can't say more, young man, but I believe it is in your best interest to redo this paper—note that it is currently marked 'Incomplete'—by the start of this class three cycles from now. Do your best. Understood?"

Starbuck looked at the little professor for a couple of microns before slowly shaking his head. "I'm sorry, sir, but not really. I don't think you like me and I'm not sure why you're giving me this second chance."

The professor smiled. "Despite the fact that I think you get by with as much as you can by doing as little as possible, and despite the hard time that you think I give you in this class, I see great potential in you and I really do want you to succeed, both for yourself and for our people."

The young man was quite surprised since he previously hadn't thought the professor had a caring bone in his body. His heart was warmed at the thought and he gave Professor Welwa a smile as he accepted the paper. "Thank you, Sir." He was turning to go when he looked back and added, "I won't let you down, sir."

Welwa nodded, maintaining a serious expression. "I'm counting on that, Mr. Starbuck."

The young cadet was doing his best to suppress a smile as he moved to the door to head to lunch, but a shadow crossed his as he opened it. He saw the Academy commandant, Commander Kreil, standing just outside the door. Starbuck quickly saluted.

The commandant returned the salute and said, "Cadet Starbuck. Just the person I was seeking. I need to speak with you in my office. Now."

~BSG~

 ** _Author's Note:_** _Thank you to max2013 and gym mom 2 for the reviews on Part 1 of this story and to all who are following it. Your reviews, comments, favorites, and follows are greatly appreciated._


	3. Stanza 2: Alone

**Stanza 2: Alone**

 _No warmth, no sound, through darkness deep,  
The trav'ler brave must onward fight,  
'Cross starless void, his vow to keep,  
But silent cold, is that long night._

 ** _—The Spacefarer's Ode_**

* * *

Sitting in his Viper in the deepest shadow just a few metrons above the surface of the dark side of the metallic-based asteroid he had nicknamed Carley, Starbuck was quietly humming some old tune he couldn't quite remember to help resist the boredom and fight off the cold that was starting to seep into the cockpit. Powered down in the umbra with no chance of the local star providing any warmth, the relentless cold of space was slowly overcoming the insulation and what little heat remained in the ship. Carley's tiny gravity was also causing his Viper to fall toward the asteroid, but at the extremely low acceleration rate, it would be almost 20 centons before that became a serious concern.

Looking back, he saw the asteroids he was calling Arley and Barley some distance behind him and a slightly larger one he'd nicknamed Darley was some distance ahead. There were no doubt other asteroids nearby but he couldn't see them from this vantage point. Knowing that they were stable in their orbits as he'd explained to poor Cree a bit earlier, he wasn't concerned about the goofy naming issues that might come into play if others were to suddenly become visible.

 _Cree._

Starbuck shook his head at the thought of the young cadet and how he'd let him down once more. Unlike on Aracta, though, this time had been fatal for the young man; there would be no third chance for him. The Warrior breathed out in frustration as he continued to look around the heavens.

Despite his nearly constant visual search, there was nothing of importance to see, but somewhere out there were seven Cylon Raiders searching for him. And one of those seven was the other Raider that had killed young Cadet Cree. He was doing his best to keep that thought, if not completely out of his mind, at least from controlling his actions.

For almost all of his life, ever since first discovering the concept, Starbuck had always considered the odds, even if he didn't always play them. This time, with seven Raiders up against one Viper, the odds were quite long indeed.

As a group, Warriors were among the most confident members of Colonial society. Because of what they were asked to do, that was practically a requirement to be successful at their job. As such, it was quite common for them to brag about a single Warrior being able to take on and defeat eight, nine, or even ten Raiders singlehandedly. In actuality, there was even a bit of truth to this claim, but typically only a bit.

In a few large pitched battles of recent yahrens where seemingly hundreds of Raiders had opposed much smaller groups of Warriors in their faster, more maneuverable Vipers, there had been instances where as many as eight to ten Raiders had been destroyed for every Viper lost. This had quickly been adopted as the Warriors' claim as a matter of boosting morale. It played well with the Warriors and with civilians watching on the news. However, the truth was that in small numbers, two or even three on one sometimes proved fatal to unfortunate Warriors, and sometimes even one on one to the less experienced.

"I've already dealt with two, but there are seven more of those blasted Raiders out there searching for me," he said to himself. "Somewhere."

He looked at each of his asteroid 'friends' in turn, searching diligently, but seeing nothing other than the lit portion of their faces that was visible from his vantage point. The back of each was cloaked in darkness, and the Raiders could be hiding in any of them, just as he was doing here.

"Somewhere," he repeated. "But where did the tinheads come from? Why were they on an almost direct intercept course when we ran into them?" Could the danger be even worse than the seven about which he knew?

As he continued to search in silence, his mind was running through the possibilities for the answers to both questions. The Raiders had to have come from somewhere fairly close by, and Colonel Tigh had already told him that they'd picked up Cylon communications signals within the system.

"Hmmm. That probably means there are at least two places signaling each other, and if we heard them, probably more since they must not have used a tight beam to communicate from place to place."

Starbuck quickly worked through the options and settled on three possibilities:

 _1\. A Cylon Base Star or other capital-type ship. However, there would probably be a lot more Raiders if that was the case. If it had been a routine patrol, there would likely have been only three, or possibly, even just two.  
_

He breathed a sigh of relief on concluding that probably wasn't what he faced. Second was almost equally daunting.

 _2\. A Cylon base. However, these were usually on planets, and the inner planets for this system didn't appear very hospitable, even to Cylons._

He couldn't rule this one out, but if did seem somewhat less likely than the third.

 _3\. A small Cylon base like a listening post. These might be on an asteroid. They'd been known to sprinkle a few around a system to be able to monitor activity throughout a system. A small post with 10, 20, or maybe even 50 Raiders wouldn't be too hard to imagine._

This one, he decided, might be most likely. As he continued to think and diligently watch, he debated the issue with himself. "If they put it on the inner side of the belt, those Raiders might have flown straight through and been heading out to search for the fleet. Why?"

Impersonating the female C.O.R.A. voice that he thought might also have been appropriate for Carley, he replied to his own question. "The listening post probably picked up communications signals from between ships of the fleet that were sent before the Commander clamped down on them. With the signals traveling through space, that would have given the Cylons time to triangulate on us and then to organize their search."

Realizing what this meant, he added, "Great thought, Carley. Those Raiders weren't coming after Cree and me; they were going to find the fleet! Now they're looking for me to keep me from letting the fleet know about them. The problem is, if I go against orders to signal the fleet to let them know the danger, those bastards or their listening post will detect that and I'll have confirmed the location for them. It wouldn't be long before every Cylon in this system, from whatever Lords-forsaken option they have here, is on their way out to attack. I can't go home either because they'll detect that and follow me."

He huffed in frustration, but Carley was silent, offering no additional insights or commiseration as to Starbuck's plight. The Warrior knew he was stuck in the middle of a no win situation, and, unfortunately, it seemed to be taking forever for anything to happen. He wondered how long it would be before the Cylons finally found him.

"Patience, Starbuck. Patience."

Considering that he was not a naturally patient person, patience was a skill that Starbuck had spent many yahrens learning and practicing. As the cold threatened to overcome him, he wasn't sure how long his patience could hold out.

"They will move eventually and come searching for me, and when they find and deal with me, they'll be off to start searching for the fleet again. Seven on one. Frack!"

With Cree already dead, considering the odds made him feel really sick in the pit of his stomach. There were those in the fleet who might soon be feeling the same way about him when he didn't return. He reached in the side pocket and pulled out an energy bar.

Taking a bite, he wondered who would truly miss him.

 _Cassie. She'll be the only one who will mourn me. And I barely got to tell her goodbye. Of course, I've told her in the past that every mission could be the last one, but I wonder if she really understands that. And if she really believes it._

Looking over the side, he activated a small hand torch that he was carefully shielding. In the dim light that it cast, he saw that he only had a few more centons before his ship settled down on the 'Carley rock' just below him. Quickly turning it off, he checked his other three nearby friends once more and gave a quick scan outward. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he flipped a switch to give a little light inside his cockpit and then set three down-turned maneuvering thrusters to give a tiny blast. "Here goes," he said as he activated all three simultaneously.

His Viper moved upward, evenly, for three microns before he had to do a tiny, reverse thrust to keep from rising too high. Stabilized, his Viper began its ever-so-slow fall back toward the surface.

He was watching especially carefully after this. The lights must have been like beacons in the darkness on Carley's shadowed back side, but Starbuck realized that death could come at any time and would likely be as swift as it was silent. A Cylon blast could come in from almost any angle (except for directly below, which was part of the reason for staying so close to the asteroid), hitting his ship and causing it to explode, if he was lucky, or to split open like a melon, leaving him to spend his last moments gasping for air as his body crystallized in the cold.

He searched the heavens relentlessly, but saw nothing except the dark expanse of Carley below him, the distant stars, and Arley, Barley, and Darley in the distance. The 'friends' were a little further out from the local star so he could barely see the dim light on part of their "front" faces.

With things stabilized, his thoughts turned back to Cassiopeia and then on to others who might mourn him when he didn't return. Apollo, probably, though with his responsibilities, the captain might not even have time. Then there was Boomer…and maybe Jolly. And Boxey. Starbuck had become closer to the young boy recently, and the young man might miss him, too. Even Commander Adama and Athena might regret his passing for more than his value as a military asset. Well, after the final date stunt he'd pulled with Cassie _and_ Athena, the commander, anyway.

 _I'm alone out here— except for my asteroid friends, of course— but my friends on the Galactica are my real family, and, while I may not make it home, they're in my heart, always, so I'll never be truly alone._

It started low and built slowly as Starbuck realized he was humming that stupid tune again. It wasn't a popular tune or something that he'd heard many times, but for some reason, he couldn't get it out of his mind. It was as if the tune was calling to him.

He looked at each asteroid again, searching but seeing nothing to cause him to believe the Raiders were getting any closer to him.

 _da Dum da Dum_ "must onward fight."

It was a sudden revelation as he said those few words aloud, and the rest of the poem, which he'd studied in some useless class at the Academy so long ago, came flooding back to him. He'd memorized the poem for some reason he couldn't even remember, but as he thought through the words, they gave him more comfort than he would have ever imagined possible.

Looking over the nearby asteroids once more, he realized that each of these offered as much of a potential place of refuge for him in his deadly game of hide and seek with Cylons as it did for them.

 _Fight onward, Starbuck. Odds be damned._

When it came, he was surprised but not completely shocked, since it was actually something that he would have done. There was a gleam of reflected star light as the Raider crept out of the shadows well above and behind the big asteroid Darley some distance ahead of him. The light was gone within microns, as if it had never been there, but in the brief time Starbuck watched it, it seemed to be heading in his general direction. This Raider with its crew of centurions was searching those very dark hiding places that Starbuck had hoped to use to allow him to escape. Now knowing that they were indeed coming, the Warrior prepared his heart and his ship for the fight to come.

~BSG~

There was another ever-so-brief flash of reflected light as the Raider came over Carley's horizon and entered the dark shadows behind the asteroid. Once it entered that darkness, Starbuck was able to track the ship just a few kilometrons distant from the glow of its engine and its operating lights. Unlike him, the Cylons didn't appear to be concerned about trying to keep out of sight.

The ship was going slowly as it advanced, undoubtedly searching the darkness with its bank of scanners, trying to detect the human vessel to bring the search, and the human, to an end. The Raider was less than a kilometron above Carley's shadow cloaked surface, which Starbuck suspected was enough to allow the Cylons to cover the whole side of the asteroid in one sweep.

Now came the true test. With his Viper just metrons above the surface, Starbuck hoped that the metallic asteroid would help mask its presence. He also hoped that, when the time came in the next couple of centons, that everything would work properly the first time.

 _If it doesn't, this is going to be the shortest offensive in Colonial history.  
_

Seeing the Raider approaching, Starbuck quickly checked the other asteroids and the heavens above him. With seven Raiders, he wouldn't be surprised to find that another was close by. If nothing else, they would be in constant communication, so he had to do what was required and then get away before any of the tinheads' buddies showed up.

Seeing nothing, he looked up to see the ship closing the gap and then passing almost directly over him. He realized he was holding his breath as the lights slowly went past. He exhaled slowly as the glow of the engines became more pronounced as they passed by him. Since they weren't accelerating, there was almost no exhaust from them. He waited another five and then ten microns, saying a little prayer as he did, and hoping that his recollection of Cylon equipment capabilities and his estimation of the angle were all correct.

 _5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Showtime!_

Counting upward as he did it, Starbuck flipped the switches as fast as he could. Using the maneuvering thruster, he spun his ship 180 degrees and then hit the forward thruster to bring the nose up approximately the right amount as his ship's computer came on line. With his engines coming up and the turbolasers charging, Starbuck reached a count of 7 before he had the power to hit his turbothrusters.

The three Cylons in the Raider above were evidently just picking up the activity below as the Viper's sudden thrust shot it forward, upward, away from the asteroid even as the exhaust kicked up a cloud of dust on the surface. The Raider's engines flared as the pilot applied power and tried to bank away, but Starbuck's second turbolaser blast cut through it causing it to explode and shoot glowing debris forward before all signs of the ship disappeared in the darkness.

 _That was for Ensign Cree, you tinhead bastards. One down, six to go._

Knowing that the other Raiders would be there shortly, Starbuck hit his turbos once more, and, heading in the opposite direction of the asteroids' orbit, made for Arley, searching for and hoping to avoid any smaller asteroids on his way. If he hit one, he knew it was likely that he would never know.

~BSG~

 ** _Author's Note:_** _Thank you for reading my story. I hope you're having as much fun reading it as I am writing it. Thanks, also go to max2013 and vaughn28 for their recent reviews and comments on Part 2. Y_ _our reviews, follows, and favorites will be greatly appreciated, too.  
_

 _Western fans are invited to check out my High Chaparral series and my Lone Ranger story. Fritz Leiber fans and those interested in fantasy/adventure stories are encouraged to check out my Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser series, too. If you're interested in either, more information and the suggested reading order can be found in my profile._

 _Thanks!  
_

 _VST_


	4. Intermezzo 2: Danger

****Intermezzo 2: Danger****

Starbuck saluted Commander Kreil and then, when the commandant entered the classroom, quickly slipped away. He had to visit the Academy commandant's office as ordered, but the order didn't say he had to walk there with the man. Therefore, he made straight for the cafeteria where his friends were just sitting down with their lunch trays. There, he told Apollo, Boomer, Trent, and the rest of their usual lunch crowd that he had to run an errand and would see them later in the afternoon.

"Trent, take good notes in lab in case I'm late."

His lab partner for the term laughed. "And which part of that might be different than usual?"

Their friends joined Trent's laughter.

Starbuck smiled with a wave, and then exited through the rear doors. Once outside, he made haste across campus to the administration building. He was waiting outside the commander's office under the watchful eyes of three administrative assistants when the man finally arrived.

Snapping to attention, he gave a sharp salute, which Commander Kreil reluctantly returned with little enthusiasm as he passed. The commandant entered his office and closed the door.

"Cadet Starbuck, you know the drill," said the chief assistant. The woman was old enough to be a grandmother and had significant prior experience with the young cadet. It was rumored that she had actually been a drill sergeant in the Colonial Marines, and she still had the bearing and the voice for it. She even carried a sidearm to compliment her no-nonsense look.

"Have a seat and the commander will call you when he's ready."

~BSG~

It was perhaps the longest twenty centons of Starbuck's life, but when the comm sounded and Starbuck glanced at his chrono, he was surprised to find that it was indeed only twenty centons that had passed.

The commandant's voice called out, quite gruffly, "Second Cadet Starbuck, get in here!"

The drill sergeant administrative assistant only nodded toward the door as Starbuck rose, but she buzzed him through as he approached the door.

When the cadet entered the office, a wave of the commandant's hand indicated the spot in front of the oversized desk. Starbuck noted that, as in his past visits, there was no chair so he stood still and at attention on the shiny, terrazo-like floor.

"Cadet, Second Class, Starbuck, reporting as ordered, sir."

As much as he disliked it, Starbuck remained standing at attention when the commandant didn't put him at ease. The young cadet surpressed the urge to grimace when he saw the angry expression on the older man's face. This wasn't going to be fun.

"Cadet Starbuck, I'm going to be frank. As one of our potentially best Warriors in your class, can you tell me why you persist in wasting so much of your time, and my time, too, standing in that spot in my office? I have given you warning after warning about infraction after infraction, and you've continued to skate through by the narrowest of margins for almost three full yahrens. You have great potential—I've seen that, or I wouldn't have let the situation continue—but you also have this uncanny ability to violate almost every rule imaginable, and, I hate to say it, but probably some more of which I may not even be aware. I've warned you before about keeping your nose clean, but you seem to have wax in your ears or a stubborn streak the size of the Crasanian Nebula in your head." Waving to his desk, he continued, "Not one, not two, but three infractions have landed on my desk this morning. That happens occasionally, but usually not this late in the term and never with all three having the same name on them. Your name. Would you like to explain?"

Not knowing exactly what rules the commandant might have been addressing, but also not wanting to admit to any that the man might have missed, Starbuck replied, "Uh, no, sir?"

A very frustrated sigh followed. The man reached down and picked up the first paper.

"Hmm, it seems your Housemaster has reported you for gambling for cubits in your dorm. Again."

Starbuck inwardly groaned. There were four players in the game, but, of course, he was the only one to get caught. The others had blended into the crowd, but Starbuck had to stay at the table to collect his winnings.

Staring down his nose at the cadet, the commandant's glare was intense. "Ordinarily, I would patiently ask a young cadet if they were aware that gambling for actual money is forbidden on Academy grounds. However, in this case, I will forego my usual routine since I am quite aware of the fact that you know this rule in detail. Can you tell me exactly why I would know that, 2nd Cadet?"

"Be-cause...you've...told me before?"

Incredibly, the commandant's glare intensified further. "No, Cadet Starbuck. Because I've personally told you at least six times before!" His volume was approaching that of a shout as flipped his data pad around so Starbuck could see the records.

The comm sounded. The chief assistant asked, "Is everything okay, Commander?"

"Yes, thank you, Gerta," he replied despite his apparent desire to say no.

"Just checking, sir."

The comm went dead and the commandant slowly exhaled. "Cadet Starbuck, if this was all, I would have given you the usual speech that you have always so readily forgotten in the past, but no, the second infraction has even worse implications. A grade of 'Incomplete' was entered on one of your assignments in Professor Welwa's class earlier this morning."

The man leaned forward over his desk and was speaking quietly when he resumed. "I don't think it's any secret, 2nd Cadet, that you are currently up for consideration for the Advanced Flight Training class between terms. A bad grade affects your chances, but incomplete work, in the eyes of the judging committee, eliminates them. Completely. Professor Welwa told me right after we spoke that he has given you an extension on that, so whatever you do, get it in on time and in good order, or, _I promise you_ , your name will not be included on that list when it is released in the assembly three evenings from now."

"Yes, sir!"

The commander leaned back and rubbed his temples for a moment before resuming eye contact. "Then there's this one." He picked up the third paper and reread it silently. "It seems that, just last night—after Second Class curfew, mind you—you were reported by a couple of First Class female cadets to have been cavorting with an unidentified young woman in a stairwell."

Starbuck groaned silently. He'd seen the two approaching as he turned on the landing, so it was either lock lips with Sangeera and wrap her in a tight embrace or allow the older cadets, both of whom knew him, to see her face.

Knowing that he was nailed on the first two charges, with the second charge already having a possible resolution, Starbuck knew his only course was to deny the third charge. After all, the "unidentified" young woman wasn't unidentified to him. "Sir, the 1st Cadets might possibly have mistaken someone else for me. May I ask who they were?"

"First Cadets Seucia and Ramona. Do you know them?"

"Uh, yes, sir. Unfortunately, both of them have, well, issues with me."

The commandant groaned. "So you've been out with them, too? Both of them?"

"Yes, sir. Ah, individually, of course."

Starbuck wasn't sure but he thought, for just a fraction of a micron, that he saw the first hint of a smile on the commandant's face. However, when the man looked back at him, it was a completely serious expression that met his gaze. Commander Kreil sat silently, staring at him for several microns before finally speaking.

"Cadet, 2nd Class, Starbuck, it's near the end of term. I'm putting you on probation for the rest of the term. If I have to see you standing in that spot again before it is over, there will be no AFT class for you. There may not even be a First Cadet pin in your future, much less the chance of an officer's rank in the future. If that happens, you'll be transferred to basic Warrior training as an enlistee, in which case, I would not bat an eye for you but would shed a tear for the loss of a potentially great Warrior for our people."

Kreil looked down at the data pad and Starbuck, despite the concern that he felt, was finally hopeful that he was about to be dismissed. He would have to do his best to 'keep his nose clean' for the rest of the term. He knew he would even—

The commandant's comm buzzed and the man picked up the receiver. Holding up a hand to Starbuck telling him to stay, his attention turned for the moment to the call. It went on for a couple of centons.

With all that was going through his head, Starbuck was starting to sweating when there was a knock at the door. He glanced back and was surprised to see it open without waiting for the commandant's response. Starbuck was even more surprised when he saw Sangeera step into the room.

His eyes widened and his heart raced. Someone had caught her, too, and now, she was in the commandant's office without even being in uniform.

However, she didn't seem to be the least bit concerned and she even winked at Starbuck as she passed by him. Stopping by the side of the desk, she clipped her short heels, rather loudly, causing the commandant to look up as he ended the call.

Quite excitedly, she said, "Hi, Daddy!" as she leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. _  
_

Commander Kreil's expression was one of surprise and happiness. "Sangie, my dear! When did you get home from graduate school?"

"Just last night, Daddy. I had to do some research on my thesis for next term so I went by the Academy library and, wouldn't you know it? I ran into a _really_ _dear_ friend I hadn't seen in, like, _forever_! We had so much fun catching up and stuff that we ended up staying up almost all night!"

"Good! I'm so glad you were able to come home and have some fun."

Suddenly seeing a coughing Starbuck still standing at attention, Kreil added, "Cadet Starbuck, you know what you must do. You are dismissed." Turning back to his daughter, he said, "Sangie, give me a hug and then tell me, how did your first term go?"

As the door closed behind him, Starbuck's expression was stricken.

 _Oh, Lords! What have I done?_

~BSG~

 _ ** _Author's Note:_** _Thank you to max2013 and BMSH for their reviews on Part 3 of the story, and thanks to everyone who is reading it. Please consider taking a moment to let me know what you think. Thanks!__


	5. Stanza 3: Resolve

**Stanza 3: Resolve**

 _O'er deepest dark he blindly goes,  
For on he strives, let come what might,  
What danger waits he never knows,  
For silent, cold, that deadly night._

 ** _—The Spacefarer's Ode_**

* * *

With his scanners on, detecting for approaching asteroids or stray Cylons, and his eyes searching frantically, Starbuck flew opposite the direction of the asteroids' travel around the star. Encountering a single grain of sand orbiting the little sun could badly damage his ship or even kill him; something the size of his fist could potentially cause his whole Viper to disintegrate. He had microns to react to the bigger pieces; the little ones couldn't even be seen or detected so he had to trust to the Lords or dumb luck to avoid them. Hopefully, as he'd tried to tell poor Cree, the system was so old that there wouldn't be too many of the second type.

He'd made it about a third of the way to Arley when his system sounded an alarm, detecting a Cylon scan from the rear. He could only hope that he was far enough away that the Raider's sensing equipment wouldn't detect him. However, he didn't expect that to be the case.

"Anybody, anybody out here? You don't have to be nearly as big as Carley and Company. Come on, now! I just need a distraction," he said, almost as if whining.

As he continued his search for the little asteroid he needed and for all of smaller ones that he didn't, he was thinking of the ship that was following him. How had it found him?

"Well, I saw the flash of that ship as it came out of the back side of Darley and the sunlight caught it. If it had done a shallow dive…I'd have never seen it, just like I'd have never seen a ship on the front side of the asteroid if it didn't change directions. There must have been another on the front face! While the one on the back face of Darley came and checked Carley's backside, the other one must have been checking—holy frack!"

With the sensor detecting a little ball zipping toward him, Starbuck did a quick but very small shift, slipping by the rock by just a meter or two. With their relative speeds opposite each other, he didn't even see it pass, but he breathed a sigh of relief as he thought of how close it had been.

Trying to resume his line of thought, he realized that the second Raider must have been scanning the front of Carley when he took out the one checking the back. When he'd broken from behind the asteroid and charged for Arley, he was surprised he hadn't run right into the front ship. It almost had to have been a matter of microns.

"When its fellow Raider didn't appear from the back of the asteroid, that front Raider must have gone to see why rather than detecting me. Or perhaps the first one had had just enough time to start signaling before I blew it to pieces." Starbuck smiled at the thought as he slid by another little rock that he'd detected a bit earlier than the previous one. "Either way, those tinheads are after me and I'm sure they're calling all of their friends. If they get here…"

The scanner sounded, showing three small asteroids coming in his general direction. None were what he was seeking, but he suddenly said, "You guys are better than nothing."

In the frictionless environment of space, he knew that he had a lot of inertia, so, as he thought a little prayer, he reached out and flipped the switches to kill his engines and scanners. Then, using what he'd just realized while thinking of the Raiders' actions, he hit the maneuvering thrusters to put his ship into a steep dive that continued into a loop.

Starbuck was smiling as he talked to the Raider that was quickly closing on him. "If I turn or even roll, you bastards might see the flash as I come around, but if I do this right…"

A few microns later, he pulled out, having completed a 180 loop. He was now going back in the direction from which he'd come, but he was well below his original plane, and his Viper was also oriented 180 degrees from its original vertical orientation. Better yet, he was a little behind one of the small asteroids.

"Now, we're even, my tinhead friend. It's one on one for a moment or two, and the question is, did you catch that little move?" He said nothing more as he waited for the answer.

Switches set, he waited as the Raider closed. He couldn't see and his scanner wasn't on, so he counted, hoping that the Raider hadn't changed its speed significantly.

When he reached what he felt was the right count, he flipped the switches quickly, firing his engines, and hitting a wide range scan. With his engines going, he picked up a bit of speed and slipped past the little asteroid that he'd tried to use as a decoy. He hit his turbothruster just as the scanner picked up the approaching Raider.

The Cylons, on picking up the sudden scan, sent their ship into a roll but Starbuck's thumb was already on its way back up off the red fire button. Just as quickly, it went back down again and then again.

The starburst explosion in front of him brought a smile to his face, but only for a micron. "Four down," he commented, as he started looking for other asteroids and other incoming Raiders.

~BSG~

Cassiopeia was running as well as she could in her heels. It was extremely uncomfortable, but there was little else she could do since she was being chased through the ship by a mob that seemed to be growing by the centon.

"Evil! Socialator! " came the cry from a woman.

"Kill the slut!" shouted a man.

"Throw her out the airlock!" called another. "We don't want her kind!"

"Whore! Stealer of seal-mates!" screamed a haggard-looking woman with hatred in her eyes.

"Please! Leave me alone!" cried Cassie. "I'm trying to become a med-tech to help people."

Her statement was drowned out by the throng, and she felt many hands grabbing for her, ripping at her hair, her skin, her clothes. She sobbed as she felt herself being hauled away toward a nearby airlock.

"Toss the tramp! Chuck out the socialator!" called the crowd. "Heave the hussy!"

"No!" she screamed. "Starbuck! Save me! Please! Save me!"

She was almost in the airlock and it was already hard to breathe from all of the people pressing around her. She tried to call for him again, but she couldn't catch her breath, and all that came out as she called was a whimper.

The door was squeezing closed on her when, ever-so-distantly, she heard him call her name. There, outside, the people that had been calling for her death just moments before were suddenly being tossed to one side or the other.

"Cassiopeia!" called her strong Warrior once again, flinging impossibly large numbers of people out of the way, throwing them well away from her. Then, the door was ripped off its hinges and her grinning hero tossed it to the side as well before reaching forward to her and then taking her in his arms. Every hair was in place and his teeth were gleaming like those stars on the vid net. He even looked like he'd put on more muscle, making his form-fitting tunic ripple under his Warrior's jacket.

"Oh, Starbuck! My hero! I knew you'd come to rescue me again."

An unlit fumarello had, somehow, appeared clinched in his teeth. He grabbed it with one hand while pulling her in close with the other. Their lips locked together hungrily and Cassie's cares seemed to fade away, but a moment later, the kiss ended prematurely as her Warrior started making a hiccing-like, gasping sound as he pushed her away from him.

"Starbuck! What's wrong?" she cried as she saw his eyes rolling upward.

The bloody tip of a Cylon centurion's sword emerged from his chest just a micron later and he collapsed sideways, revealing all of the people who had been chasing her pushing forward again. This time though, she realized that, though they were dressed the same way, these people were now silver and black Cylon centurions who were calling for her death.

She screamed and was about to try to run away once more when she felt someone shaking her gently and calling, "Cassiopeia! Are you okay?"

Doctor Salik's gravelly voice got through to her and she awoke to find his hand gripping her arm, shaking her once more.

Her eyes were filled with tears as she opened them, finding herself on the cot in the Life Center's standby room. She sat up and said, "Doctor! I'm sorry. I went to sleep here rather than in my quarters in case you needed me, but it didn't work like I hoped. I think I was having a nightmare."

The man gave her arm a gentle squeeze before releasing it. "Cassiopeia, if you were to ask my professional opinion, I'd say that would definitely seem to be the case," he said with a chuckle. "Seriously, are you okay?"

Biting her lower lip, she looked down at the floor. "Just worried, I think. Starbuck is on a mission."

"Why don't you go check on him? We have everything under control here."

Thanking him, she headed down to the Blue Squadron operations room. An officer she didn't know was seated at the operations desk.

"Excuse me. Is there any word on Lieutenant Starbuck's mission?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I'm not at liberty to say."

The military types were seemingly always like that. She gave a worried smile in response as she thanked him and walked away. She was at the door when she turned back and asked, "Is Captain Apollo around?"

"He's on sleep period now, miss."

She thanked him again and left. Not wanting to disturb the captain, she headed toward her quarters. She was almost half way there when she changed her mind, turning, instead, to the Bridge. Unfortunately, when she arrived, there was no one there that she knew. She was leaving when she almost ran into Athena, who was just coming in. The two women looked at each other for a moment before Athena asked, "What are you doing here?"

Cassie, biting her lower lip, looked at the Bridge officer and her romantic rival. "Starbuck is on a mission and I was worried about him."

Athena looked grim as she shook her head. "I should have known. Wait here." She walked over to the executive officer's station, had a brief conversation with the man, and then came back.

"There's no word, but that's to be expected. We're on communications lockdown at the moment, and Starbuck's long-range scouting mission is taking him pretty far away. They said he should be back in about eight centars. Until then, we won't be hearing from him."

Cassie was still worried, but she replied, "Thank you, Athena. I really appreciate you letting me know." She gave a thin smile.

Athena caught the look in Cassie's eyes and the tightness of her facial expression just before she turned away, so, somewhat against her first impulse, she reached out and touched the blonde woman's arm. She said, "Cassiopeia, wait. Please."

Cassiopeia looked at her questioningly. "What..."

The Bridge officer hesitated for moment before saying, "You can guess that I don't particularly like you for what happened, but it wasn't exactly your fault—well, not nearly all of it, anyway—so I'll give you some advice. When you're dating a Warrior, you have to let them go each time they shoot down that launch rail. You have to accept that they might not ever come home again. If you don't, you'll drive yourself crazy with worry. You won't be able to eat or concentrate, and you'll have nightmares or worse."

Athena saw that Cassie was hanging on every word as she continued. "You have to accept that your man is a Warrior. He's as skilled as any person, and he'll do whatever it takes to come home safely for all of our people as well as for you. And, as much as it hurts to do it, you have to accept that sometimes the odds are just too much, but you have to pray that this is not the cycle when those odds catch up to him."

There were tears in Cassie's eyes, but she nodded in understanding. She tried to speak, but all she could force out was a very weak "Thank you."

Seeing that Cassiopeia really was worried about Starbuck, Athena took her hand and gave it a brief squeeze. "Now, go, get some sleep. Be refreshed and ready to welcome him when he comes home."

~BSG~

Starbuck had swung out a bit and was a short distance in front of his friend that he'd christened Barley when he saw what he thought he'd been seeking. Two asteroids were traveling around the little star in practically single file. The first was oblong, about two to three times as long as his ship, but the second, about 75 metrons behind the first, was almost round and roughly six metrons in diameter. With a very gradual shift that he hoped would not cause any flashes of light that would be visible from any significant distance, he was able to work his way back behind the second one, becoming, in effect, the third member of the little troop. As soon as he was in position and had matched their orbital speed, he killed his engines once more. This time, he left minimal power on to detect any incoming scans.

"Come on, Cylons," he said, as if calling a daggit. "Use your scanners to find me." He didn't bother adding the part that was bothering him; he could only hope that only one, two, or, if he was really unlucky, three Raiders would come at one time. If all five of those he knew were out there looking for him came together, he wouldn't stand much of a chance.

Therefore, he said nothing else while he searched the heavens for incoming ships and tried to avoid thinking of the cold that once more was creeping into his cockpit. His position about 20 metrons behind the second asteroid kept him from seeing about a 15 degree cone of what was ahead, but the little rock offered him a good bit of shielding from those who would soon, he assumed, be coming his way.

The centons slowly crept by as his ship cooled and he began to wonder if it would be soon enough. He would have to turn on heat again soon to avoid becoming a human popsicle, which would make his ship stand out like a bright beacon in the cold expanse.

When it finally came, the blip was brief but definite. It was the Cylons. Unfortunately, it was so brief that his equipment didn't detect a direction, thereby defeating his primary plan. Starbuck's eyes searched the nearby portion of the asteroid belt for Raiders but they found nothing. He was beginning to wander if they'd passed him by when the blip sounded again, but this time it was a near continuous ping. Something had found him!

He hit the toggles, one, two, three, to restart his engines and then kicked his scanner into play since they apparently knew he was there. As soon as he did, his system picked up, on the starward side, two Raiders bearing down on him. Even as his thumb pressed down on the turbothruster button, he saw the ships fire.

Starbuck threw the stick to the right as the turbothrusters kicked in, and he shot forward to his right. It was almost instantaneous as he slewed to the right of the little asteroid that he'd been trailing and then immediately threw the stick back to the left, cutting between that rock and the larger one just a short distance in front of it. Even as he flew almost perpendicular to the belt, he was returning fire with his turbo lasers at the incoming ships.

With Starbuck coming straight at them, the two Raiders went into a roll as they closed the gap, coming directly toward him. It was a matter of a couple of microns as the Warrior jinked his ship from side to side. Cylon laser fire sailed past him as he fired again.

His blast connected and the right Raider exploded almost directly in front of him. Starbuck had to peel off to the right to avoid it, even as he shouted, "Five!"

He was now traveling with the asteroid field again, but he couldn't continue like that with another Cylon around. He was about to turn back in search of the other ship when he unexpectedly found it.

It was just a short distance behind, right on his tail. Worse yet, it was shooting at him!

~BSG~

 ** _Author's Note:_** _Thank you to vaughn28, BMSH, and max2013 for the feedback on Part 4 of the story. Your reviews and feedback are greatly appreciated. Thanks!_


	6. Intermezzo 3: Gravity

**Intermezzo 3: Gravity**

It was usually easy for Starbuck to see through Commander Kreil's bluster, but something in his manner, as well as his message, told the cadet that the older man was being quite serious this time. Starbuck knew he had to be careful for the next few cycles.

As he made his way out of the administration building and headed toward the advanced mechanics of motion lab, he saw it was later than he thought, so he hurried and was almost to the lab when he was forced to pull up short. First Cadet Winnklas, the biggest man on campus, and two of the man's friends were coming out of the door directly in front of him.

" _Mister_ Starbuck! Just the guy I've been looking for!" called Winnklas. "We've got to talk."

"Late to class, Winnklas. I'll have to catch you later."

"Now, _Second Cadet_. You'll talk to us _now_."

Starbuck's eyes focused first on Winnklas and then scanned each of the cadet's friends in turn. They seemed to be interested in seeing what their buddy had to say and in making sure Starbuck was there to hear it, too. Knowing that he didn't need more trouble considering the commandant's warning, he looked up at the senior cadet standing in front of him. As he did, the big man reached out and grasped his arm with an iron grip. One of Winnklas' friends grabbed the other one.

There was supposed to be a height limit to allow Colonial Warriors to fit in a Viper cockpit and be relatively comfortable, but First Cadet Winnklas had either grown quite a few centi-metrons after admission or he'd paid someone off during the pre-admission physical. Based on what Starbuck knew about Winnklas, he'd have almost put cubits on the latter. He had observed the towering cadet trying to cheat in their pyramid games on at least two occasions, so paying a little bribe probably wouldn't have been a big deal to him.

"So, Winnklas, what do you need? I'm really late for class."

"What I need, Second Cadet, is a rematch on our last Pyramid game. You took way too many cubits off of me and didn't give me a chance to win any of it back."

"The monitor came through and broke up the game, remember?"

"Yeah, that part of it, but we're going to continue that game tonight and then again tomorrow night and for as many more as it takes for me to win back what I need."

"Sorry, Winnklas—"

"That's _First Cadet_ Winnklas to you, Second Cadet!"

"Oh, sorry, I have a lot of end-of-term schoolwork to do and a paper to finish tonight, so I won't have time." _Besides, I'm not sure that we would have enough time for you to win all of your cubits back anyway. The way you play, that could take yahrens._

Starbuck hadn't spoken his thought, but Winnklas seemed to have sensed something. His big, balled fist landed a short but stout blow to Starbuck's stomach. The younger cadet grunted in pain and snickers followed from Winnklas' friends.

Winnklas leaned in close and whispered, "Listen, Starbuck, I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation. I'm shipping out for more training immediately after graduation in a few cycles. You either meet me for the game tonight to let me win back some of my cubits or I swear I'll take them directly out of your hide and you'll spend all summer recovering. That little love tap will be nothing in comparison to what will be coming. Got it? My room. Tonight. Be there."

~BSG~

Starbuck's stomach was still smarting from the little taste of Winnklas' threat as he slipped into the advanced mechanics of motion lab. He was almost to his station when Professor Hunsa called his name.

"Cadet Starbuck! It's _so_ nice of you to join us. Please, join me here up front and share with us what you felt was so important that it gave you the right to be late to this lab. Yet again, I might add."

"Eh, I was, ah, assisting the commandant on an important issue related to the academy, sir."

" _Ri-ight_ ," replied the instructor, the disbelief showing on his face as much as it was in his voice.

Starbuck stepped forward and handed a folded paper that he pulled from his pocket. The commandant's assistant hadn't been happy about the need to write it, but Starbuck _had_ been in the commandant's office during class time, and he knew that she would be prohibited from including the fact that it was related to disciplinary action. The wording was almost as terse and simple as he'd expected, so he'd hoped he could save it for future use; the date looked easy to alter. However, in his current situation, he knew it was better to _not_ take any chances, so he stood waiting as Hunsa stared at the slip.

The man waved to the class to carry on with their work and then focused on Starbuck. He whispered, "Take your station, Cadet Starbuck. I suspect that you will, once again, be very much in Cadet Trent's debt for his efforts on your behalf." The instructor's expression made it rather apparent that he suspected that the meeting had to do with a disciplinary issue but was prevented by the rules from saying it.

Starbuck took a seat at the lab table next to Trent, who looked at him oddly. "Man, you look like you've been through a wringer."

"The look isn't half of it, believe me," agreed Starbuck. "So where are we?"

Trent nodded and handed him the datasheet.

When they were done, they stood at attention as Hunsa graded their work in case any revisions were required.

The lab instructor had a rather perturbed look on his face when he finally handed them an excellent score. His hand remained on the paper as he whispered, "Congratulations, Cadet Starbuck. You have successfully, and quite competently, completed this class for the term, despite my doubts. I must add, cadet, one day you will mess up, and, I suspect, you'll mess up most gloriously. Unlike some who would delight in that, it will probably be so bad that I can only hope, for our sakes, that Cadet Trent and I are _not_ around to see it happen. Dismissed."

The two friends waited until they were out in the hall before laughing.

"Trent, thanks for covering for me. I—"

Starbuck froze as he saw a flash of a blue dress as a young woman entered the doors at the end of the hall just as a lecture hall emptied. Though he couldn't see her face before he lost her in the crowd, he was almost sure it was Sangeera wearing the same dress she'd been wearing in her father's office earlier in the afternoon.

"—uh, I've got to go. Catch you at evening mess."

As much as he really wanted to see Sangeera again, he couldn't take the risk until after the term ended...if ever. The danger was too high, the risk to his career, too great, so he put her out of his mind to focus, instead, on his "incomplete" essay. Thinking of his present dilemma and those that might be faced by Colonial Warriors, he began to see some parallels with that old hymn that he'd struggled so hard to evaluate. His revised evaluation of the work, as convoluted as it seemed, was just about complete in his mind by the time he reached his destination.

~BSG~

"Are you deliberately avoiding me or are you just that determined to finish your paper without my help?"

Starbuck looked up to see Sangeera standing a few feet away from him with her hips canted and her fists planted firmly against them. She didn't look angry, but her stance indicated a degree of dogged—and to Starbuck, very sexy—determination; she was clearly expecting a truthful answer.

"Uh, hi, Sangeera—"

"Call me Sangie, please."

"While I'd love your help with the essay, your father made it perfectly clear to me that he would have my astrum on the next shuttle to the far reaches of Colonial space if I messed up again in the next few cycles. If he found out that it was you in that stairwell, he'd probably forget all about that and just use that Cylon sword in his display case to have my head instead. Say, how'd you find me, anyway?"

She shook her head and smiled at him. "I don't know what else you did, but my dad learned several yahrens ago to stay out of my love life so you don't have to worry about that sword. As for finding you, Daddy took over as commandant of the academy when I was four. My mom died a couple of yahrens later, so I've spent almost twenty yahrens growing up on this campus and I know someone, and sometimes everyone, in practically every department. Including security." Her smile became a grin as she pointed up to the security vid cam in the corner of the observatory lounge. "Now, are you going to let me look at that essay or not?"

Still unsure, he handed her his tablet. She sat down next to him—in that dress, almost _too_ close—and started reading his work. Purposefully avoiding a peek at her figure in the dress, he watched as she highlighted a few points.

When she finally handed the pad back to him, he looked at what turned out to be individual words she'd highlighted and then looked back at her questioningly. "I don't get it. Did I use the wrong word or something?"

Sangie sighed and then said, as if to herself, "Oh, why do I insist on dating younger men?" Turning back toward Starbuck, she added, "Those words are wrong, silly. Your evaluation is actually pretty good now, but you apparently didn't have your spelling check turned on."

When he activated it, each word she had highlighted turned red, indicating a spelling error. It was his turn to sigh.

She laughed and then asked, "Well, do you want to go somewhere safer where we won't be seen together?"

"I'd love to do that, but Sangie, there's not a safe place for that on this entire campus."

She laughed again. "Oh, I knew you were a silly boy. Yes, there's a safe place on campus where nobody, and especially my father, would ever think to look for you: my bedroom suite, of course."

~BSG~

It was a secton later and Starbuck, Apollo, and three of their classmates had just boarded a transport for the Advanced Flight Training school on Caprica's largest moon. Apollo waited until the shuttle launched before leaning close to his friend to whisper, "So where have you been holed up for the past few cycles? No one has seen you in the dorm, and you've been like a ghost, appearing right before exams and mandatory assemblies like the AFT assembly, and then disappearing again right afterward. What's been going on?"

"The commandant threatened to kick me out of the Academy if I didn't stay out of trouble until the end of term, so I had to disappear to avoid potential trouble. A friend let me share their suite—"

"Their suite, as in _her_ room, I suspect," said Apollo knowingly.

"Well, if you really want to get technical..."

Apollo rolled his eyes. "So, how's your studying coming for our training course?"

Starbuck looked surprised. "What studying?"

"You didn't get the assignment packet they dropped in your room? No, of course not, you weren't there." Apollo reached in his travel bag and pulled out his packet. "We're supposed to have studied this before arrival."

" _Colonial Viper Advanced Flight Specifications and Operations Manual_? Come on, this has got to be 450 pages long!"

"A little over 500, actually, and it's some fascinating reading. You better get started; we have less than four centars before we get to the base."

~BSG~

Starbuck spent the next several centars browsing through the manual and reading more carefully anything that really caught his interest. That included operating on two engines, temporary operations on a single engine, turbo laser dispersal shots, maneuvering with thrusters only, and the inverse maneuver.

The last one, in which internal dampers activate within the engine housing to reverse the Viper's thrust, seemed to offer a lot more possibilities than they'd used in his flight training so far. This maneuver could slow the ship significantly, allowing a pursuing ship to overshoot and become the hunted rather than the hunter. He came to a specific note that gave him pause:

 _NOTE that there are individual reverse thruster  
controls in the cockpit for each engine, but_ _  
 _these are for maintenance purposes and NOT for flight_  
 _operations. Use of these individual switches rather than the_  
 _"IM" button on the control stick can lead to serious_  
 _damage to the ship and probable death for the pilot from the_  
 _ensuing sudden, violent change in direction.__

Starbuck flipped back to a previous section and compared the specifications. According to the actual numbers, there was a large factor of safety built into the ship even for such unlikely operation. As he compared the numbers, he realized that the only damage that was likely to occur was to the pilot. Starbuck considered what he'd read and then did some calculations. The result was very high resulting g-forces, but nothing that should kill a pilot who was wearing a pressure suit and was properly strapped into place.

He was going back through his calculations when the comm system sounded. "This is Shuttle Captain Jelsen, we're preparing to land at the base, so be sure you're strapped in. Deceleration thrusters will begin firing periodically in 30 microns."

After the ship landed at the base, the new trainees got their duffle bags and walked carefully down the ramp toward the main complex. While artificial gravity was used in the buildings at the base, that wasn't the case in the flight center. The moon's lighter gravity was quite obvious and all five AFT trainees walked slowly as they tried to get used to it.

While they were laughing among themselves, louder laughter from the bottom of the ramp surprised them, but Starbuck was doubly surprised when he saw newly minted Ensign Winnklas grinning at him.

"Cadet Starbuck! Fancy meeting you here. I really don't know why they let rising first cadets attend this advanced flight training course when you guys haven't even finished all of your primary training. That's the senior officers decision, so we can't do anything about it, but watch your tail if you go up against my group. We won't see the need to be gentle."

"Can it, Winnklas," replied Starbuck. "You don't scare me."

Winnklas grinned ominously. "That's _Ensign_ Winnklas to you, cadet. And you should be scared. People have been known to have serious accidents in the flight exercises here."

"We're here to learn the best techniques for fighting Cylons and any other enemies, not get in a tangle with you," said Apollo to the big man. "But if you start something, don't think we won't step up to finish it."

"Oh, I'm sure you would," agreed Winnklas, "but my issue's not with you, Apollo, it's with your buddy, Starbuck." Stepping close to Starbuck, Winnklas whispered, "Listen, little crawlon, a warning for you. You avoided me for those few last cycles at the Academy. You won't be nearly so lucky here."

~BSG~

 _ **Author's Note:** Thank you to BMSH, max2013, gym mom 2, Athaia, vaughn28, and GreyGregory14 for the reviews on part 5 of the story. Your feedback is a big help and is greatly appreciated._


	7. Stanza 4: Hope

**Stanza 4: Hope  
**  
 _Driving onward toward that goal,  
Lonely goes one toward that sight,  
That distant star that warms one's soul,  
What comfort gives that growing light._

 ** _—The Spacefarer's Ode_**

* * *

From almost right behind, the Raider was shooting at him.

Pairs of blue-white streaks lanced past as Starbuck moved his control stick. Moving it too fast or too slow or the wrong way or not far enough in the right way would be all it would take for him to join young Cree and so many of his friends who'd been killed in similar situations over the yahrens. Unfortunately, there was no way to know what was too fast, too slow, or whatever, so he kept doing it and hoping that his luck would hold.

It didn't.

A glancing shot hit the tip of his right wing, throwing drops of molten debris out away from the ship as the blast rocked the Viper, forcing it into a roll. He breathed a sigh of relief when the sensors didn't read any serious damage as he fought to regain control, but the hit did serve to remind Starbuck that random luck alone would not do it. Knowing that there were three more ships out there and probably on the way, he had to help make some good luck of his own. And make it fast!

Using the energy of the roll, he cut sharply to the right and hit his turbothruster for a quick one-two count, leaving the Raider further behind. Without the Viper's ability to rapidly accelerate, the Cylon pilot and its crew increased their speed, more slowly, but tracked Starbuck's turn almost perfectly. While they would be further away, they would be lined up for a good shot that Starbuck figured he could—at least hopefully—dodge.

Unless...

It was a sudden impulse that he hadn't planned originally but his thumb suddenly slammed down on the IM button on his stick. Dampers deployed in his engines, reversing most of the thrust and throwing Starbuck forward against his safety harness. He let off on the button as another pair of those deadly streaks shot past him, followed almost instantly by the Raider itself.

With no time for targeting, Starbuck pressed the red fire button once and then again. He knew it had almost no chance of hitting, but he hoped it would cause the Raider to continue away as he lined up for a better shot.

It was almost a targeting lock when the warning sounded. There was no time to look to confirm the problem; knowing that he was cutting across the asteroids' path and keeping track of his course with respect to them, Starbuck threw the stick to the left to line up with them and hit the turbothruster until he was once again matching their general speed. His heart still racing, he looked down at the scanner screen to see the boulder a short distance behind and slightly to his left. The rock was small enough that he would never have seen it, but big enough that there would likely have been nothing left of him or his ship. Fortunately, it was also big enough for the scanner to detect it. He breathed a quick sigh before refocusing on his enemy.

The crew—or at least the pilot—of the Raider was good. The tinheads had taken advantage of the situation to bring their ship back around and it was now closing on Starbuck's Viper once more. All of the fancy maneuvering and burned fuel were wasted. The little asteroid behind him was the only thing keeping the Cylons from adjusting their lineup and taking the shot.

There was a silent flash behind him as the rock exploded from a dual burst of the Raider's laser cannons. Starbuck wouldn't have even known about it if it hadn't been detected on the scanner screen. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he realized he was not only alone but now directly in the Raider's deadly crosshairs!

~BSG~

Following her discussion with Athena, Cassiopeia went to her quarters, took a deep breath, and lay down, hoping to go to sleep. However, despite Athena's advice, she found that putting away her worries was apparently more difficult than either woman had imagined.

Fraught with worry, she eventually found herself standing in front of the turbolift doors. She shook her head trying to remember why she was there and where she was going, but when the doors opened, she entered the lift.

Cassiopeia was surprised when Starbuck entered behind her. She was about to throw her arms around him when she realized it was someone else, another Warrior, and a poorly dressed one at that. He was wearing his dress uniform, but he'd evidently lost weight and hadn't yet had it tailored to fit his new size. She put the thought out of her mind as she gave a brief smile and said hello, and then tried to remember where she'd been going.

Everything seemed to be a blur as the lift door closed. Her destination just wasn't coming to her, so she decided to push a button for the next floor down. She would stop there and get her bearings. Giving a sigh, she tried to force herself to relax as she took in her surroundings.

Her look at the turbolift's control panel was her first clue that something was wrong. _The Galactica's turbo lift controls look...different? No, they aren't like this!_ she thought.

The next sign, just a moment later, wasn't the lift's failure to stop, but rather the reflection of her outfit in the polished surface of the control panel. Fear struck her as she realized she was wearing the white party dress that had been ruined in the awful events on Carillon.

Her breath suddenly became short, rapid puffs and her heart started to race even though the sloppy Warrior seemed completely unconcerned. _No!_

Cassiopeia realized exactly where she was and exactly what was happening even before the turbo lift door opened. She'd been here before, not once, but many times. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. No sound ever came out.

In fact, it was as it always was; once again, she saw the evil sight of the bug-like creatures sealing the unfortunate woman in one of the cells. Cassie backed up into the lift, hoping the Warrior-who-wasn't-a-Warrior would be able to protect her this time, but as usual, the man was clueless and did nothing. He offered practically no resistance and many hands were soon grabbing them, pulling them toward the cells.

The smell that hit her was sweet, almost sickly, and she felt her body go numb though her eyes were still wide open. The insectoid hands released her as the creatures picked up the fake Warrior and put him on the pallet. Unlike her, he was struggling, trying to get away, but she'd seen it too many times before. With the spun webbing holding him, the pallet slid forward into the cell and they quickly sealed over the end. Then, they turned and moved toward her.

In a temporary paralysis, she was unable to move or scream, but as they placed her on a pallet of her own, another pheromone-like smell hit her nostrils, releasing her muscles. She struggled and screamed, but this, it seemed, was what the Ovions wanted. The food they stored for their young had to be fresh and capable of a bit of movement.

It was the worst part of the dream, as the Ovions prepared to seal over her little cell, but here, each time as she tried to scream, Starbuck swept in to rescue her.

Starbuck, firing his blaster.

Starbuck, pulling her from the tube.

Starbuck, practically dragging her to safety as she fought to regain her balance.

Starbuck, her hero!

Only this time, as Cassiopeia continued to scream, Starbuck didn't come.

~BSG~

Like their Colonial Warrior counterparts, Cylons generally don't fall for the same trick twice. Of course, in most battles, neither would ever get the chance.

Starbuck had his control stick in constant motion as he hit the turbos and accelerated, hoping that the increasing distance and the movement would keep any of the Cylon laser blasts from nailing him. Unfortunately, his increasing speed was bringing him ever-closer, ever-more-quickly, to where he believed the rest of the Cylon force to be. If the tinheads were smart, they just might have set up an ambush near the bigger asteroids Carley or Darley and be there waiting for him to fly back by. In that event, his scanners would give him almost no warning.

Letting off the turbothruster, he glanced at the scanner screen. It showed that the Raider was still accelerating behind him, so he had to do something well before he reached his big asteroid friends. Increasing his scan distance, his eyes widened when he saw a 30-metron-wide asteroid near the edge of his screen.

 _Lords, help me. Here goes!_

He pushed his stick forward and to the right, steeling himself for the tight turn he had to make around the rock. His Viper responded, angling down toward the big rock ahead.

The jolt wasn't entirely unexpected, but the timing was, happening almost immediately after his maneuver. Going faster than the asteroids in the belt and cutting across their path, he impacted one of the smaller, unseen asteroids from behind, causing his Viper to shudder as the little "rock" disintegrated into a cloud of dust.

 _That would have been the end if it had been solid_.

Two streaks of bright light shooting past just outside of his cockpit served to remind him that asteroids weren't his only enemy. With the Raider closing on him, he reluctantly angled back into the asteroid's path and hit his turbothruster once more; his loop-around would have to wait.

Starbuck's Colonial Viper practically jumped forward again, accelerating. Once again, he was at risk of running into the back of unseen asteroids ahead of him, so he had his scanner on maximum resolution, trying to see anything that might be a danger. And again, he was getting ever closer to the other Raiders.

The scanner alarm sounded, and he responded, dodging one and then a second of the now slower-moving boulders. Other such maneuvers followed in succession.

His tendency was to search ahead, but in the flowing river of boulders in the blackness of space, his eyes, unaided, were almost useless to him except for the very large stones that reflected weak glints of light from the unnamed star about which they circled. Once the scanner detected an asteroid, it would become visible as a projection on his canopy.

His glance up at the canopy showed nothing close-by, so he took a quick look at the system's star before his eyes returned to his scanner.

While it was too distant to help him, Starbuck was glad for what little light the tiny sun provided, and for the shadows it could cast, as dim as they were. The blackness of space, even when lit by the multitude of distant stars, wore on one when experienced for long periods when one was isolated and alone. Thinking of a line from the old Colonial hymn, he hummed the tune softly as he studied the scanner.

Indeed, his focus had to be on the scanner as he looked for problems ahead and any larger rocks that he might use as his salvation. If he could find the right size boulder, get the right acceleration, swing around just right, line up in the split-microns that he would have before he was hit by either Cylon laser fire or another of the hurtling stones—

While his gambling side told Starbuck that it was possible, his experience told him that the risks were almost too great. He would lose too much time and the Cylons—either the one behind or the ones almost certainly closing on him from ahead—would blast him if those fracking rocks didn't get him—

Still, he had little choice. Doing nothing meant almost certain death since the odds would soon change from one on one to four Raiders on him, and the one trailing him was moving back within targeting range.

Picking out a good candidate that had just appeared on the screen, he exclaimed, "That's it! Tinhead, I've got you now. If this doesn't blow me up first." Looking up at his enhanced view screen, he found it. "That one…right… there."

Starbuck adjusted slightly toward it and hit the turbothruster for a couple of microns. His scanner showed the Cylon trailing behind him altered its course and started adjusting its speed to match.

He quickly entered variables on the flight computer strapped on his leg. When the reading appeared almost instantly, he shook his head as he made a final adjustment. "Frack, that's a lot less margin that I'd hoped. Okay, bastard, here goes."

Once again, his thumb slammed down on the IM button, causing his ship to decelerate dramatically. This time, he didn't adjust course; instead, he sent his ship into a roll, still on the exact course as before.

At the Cylon's speed, it closed the distance almost instantly, leaving the Raider's sensors and targeting computer inadequate time to get a positive lock on the spinning Viper and the ship's commander no time to do more than spray a couple of hasty laser shots.

Just as the second blast was fired at almost point blank range, Starbuck came out of his roll at an angle, hitting the turbothruster as he did. The Raider started to change course to follow, but with Starbuck's maneuver being made almost on top of the little asteroid he'd been trailing and hiding from the Cylons' scanner, the Cylon ship's change wasn't fast enough. It made a glancing blow into the back of the little asteroid.

The Cylon pilot had seen the rock just before impact, so it had adjusted as much as possible. Instead of demolishing the Raider, the rock tore along the bottom of the ship, shredding through armor plating and ship's systems alike, greatly reducing the left engine's output. A cloud of debris was thrown into space, spiraling outward from the point of impact.

The Raider immediately reduced power to bring the engines' outputs back in line, and the swept-wing ship rolled, coming out a moment later at an upward angle. Starbuck immediately recognized it as the shortest distance out of the asteroid belt, the quickest way to the relative safety of "clear" space.

"Not so fast, bastard. There are three left after you, and we have a serious score to settle over young Ensign Cree." He was just about to adjust his course to go after the ailing ship when his scanner sounded again, this time announcing the presence of incoming Raiders.

His hand didn't hesitate. He rejoined the flow of the asteroids, heading toward the approaching ships; the wounded Raider would have to wait.

~BSG~

Someone was gently shaking her and a gravelly voice was calling, distantly, "Cassiopeia! Cassiopeia!"

Cassie awoke, her breathing shallow and rapid, with a thin, cold sweat coating her brow. She saw him standing over her. "Doctor? What's happening?"

"Are you okay, Cassiopeia? You were having another nightmare," declared Doctor Salik. "I really think you need to go to your own bed in your own quarters and get some sleep. This cot in the med bay just isn't letting you get any rest tonight. Can I give you something to help you sleep?"

"No, Doctor, it's okay. With the nightmare, I…I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. I need to go back to the Bridge to check on Starbuck again. Once I know he's okay..."

Salik nodded. "Go."

~BSG~

Three Raiders, flying in a classic Cylon wing formation, were coming directly toward him. Time to close the distance between them was about two centons. Since they were flying against the flow of the asteroids, Starbuck decided to take another chance. It was, he felt, his _only_ chance.

He quickly maneuvered into the middle of the first fairly compact group of small asteroids that his scanner detected. It wasn't the group he'd have preferred, but he had no time to be selective. By the time he was there, less than a centon remained before the Raiders arrived, so he quickly positioned himself a couple hundred metrons behind the leaders in the group and less than 20 metrons ahead of those behind. Double checking his speed, he thought, _If this doesn't work—or, if there are micro asteroids I don't see—well, I won't be around to worry about it._

After confirming that the damaged Raider wasn't coming back to take him from behind, he took a quick breath, held it for a moment before releasing it as a calming effect, and then, when the countdown was less than 30 microns to closing, he flipped the IFF switch back on, thereby making sure his Viper would show up on the Raiders' scanners. Increasing the IFF's power to maximum to make his ship glow brightly on their scanners and ignoring the comm lockdown order, which he figured applied only to Colonial channels, Starbuck switched to a known Cylon comm channel and said in his best imitation-Cylon drone, "Hey, tinheads. You killed my friend. Now, come get _me_."

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_**

 _Thanks for reading! I will appreciate your thoughts on the story, favorites, follows, et cetera. Thanks, too, to BMSH, vaughn28, peppe1951, and max2013, for their nice feedback on Part 6. Writing takes time and effort so such feedback is always encouraging. Thanks!  
_

 _I mentioned the Viper's enhanced canopy/view screen in this chapter. It wasn't explicitly stated to be present in the series but since Vipers and Raiders were clearly visible even in the darkness of space, the Viper would almost certainly have had a display of this type. A modern heads up display similar to those in modern fighter jets and some cars would probably have been present, too, but the show was limited by 1970s technology and the already most expensive production budget on TV._

 _Three chapters of this story remain._

 _Finally, if there are any fans of TV westerns, Elder Scrolls: Skyrim, or Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser fantasy/adventure stories, please check out my profile for stories in those fandoms. Thanks again!_


	8. Intermezzo 4: Strategies

**Intermezzo 4: Strategies**

Advanced Flight Training school as it was informally named was more school than Starbuck had been expecting. Classes were small, with only twelve students per section; they were also staggered and held throughout most of the standard cycle, with some training sections always working on the simulators during the regular waking period so the students could practice part of what they'd been taught in class. Starbuck was excited that, although they weren't given an actual schedule, rumor had it that flights in real Vipers would begin at almost any time, leading up to the big flight competition at the end of the course.

Unfortunately, he was the only cadet in his section, and he only recognized one other person in the group. That was a Warrior who'd graduated two yahrens before and whose name he couldn't even remember. He was, therefore, by far the least experienced member of his section but he'd been holding his own in the SIMs. Now he was unwinding with a friendly game of pocketball with Apollo, who, leaning lightly against his cue, was shaking his head.

"Starbuck, I really have no idea how you made that shot."

"Trade secrets," replied Starbuck with a laugh.

"Well, I don't know about that but my congratulations and admiration on such a masterful shot, my friend."

"Thanks. Seriously, there wasn't a lot of fun stuff to do at the orphanage when it rained—or most any other time, for that matter—but we always had a good set of pyramid cards and a really fine pocketball table that a former inmate, ah, resident, who'd made good donated. When I started earning money, one of my first purchases was a good cue stick and pot of table wax to polish the curves at the ends of the table. Did you know that the friction on unpolished curves on a pocketball table will slow a ball by 37.8 percent?"

It was Apollo's turn to laugh. "Starbuck, you forget, other than miracle shots, I know physics as well as you. The actual decrease in speed will be directly proportional to the frictional coefficient, which will vary. If I didn't know better, I'd guess you pulled that number out of the thin air of this moon. Or maybe some unmentionable bodily cavity."

Starbuck grinned. "Apollo, most people, who don't know physics quite as well as we do, believe it without blinking an eye and do their best to compensate accordingly. You wouldn't believe some of the shots I've seen as a result."

Apollo laughed. "I can imagine. Want to play one more game?"

"Sorry, can't. I've got to check on something before bedtime."

"Okay. I think I'm going to review my notes one more time before bed, too."

~BSG~

Unlike Apollo, Starbuck's something had nothing to do with his class notes.

While he knew he wasn't supposed to be there, the staff hadn't actually said the room was off limits during downtime, so he typed in the security code he'd been assigned and slipped in the door. He just hoped that no one was monitoring the security vid cams.

The room's dim lighting was confirmation that no one was expected; the many flashing lights on the bank of computers visible through the control room window showed that they were in heavy use. Starbuck suspected that they were programming for the next cycle's sessions.

Walking carefully to avoid tripping, he made his way toward one of the simulators. Once there, he popped the canopy and then put on the elbow length simulator gloves and knee-high over boots that he found in the storage locker behind the seat. He climbed in and buckled up before putting on the helmet. Shaped very similar to a typical Warrior's helmet, the big difference was that it covered the entire head and face, and the shroud at the bottom extended down over the shoulders and chest to block out any outside light. After confirming that he was fully cloaked in darkness, he activated the helmet, which also controlled the other pieces.

After an initial flicker, the scene became that of a Colonial Viper cockpit with Starbuck's hands and lower legs seemingly attached to a representative Warrior's body. The canopy was still dark, so he turned to the left and opened a cover that revealed a small screen. He logged into the system, being careful to access a program that was a few cycles old to avoid interfering with any current programming.

Scanning through the files, he initiated a random patrol mission with variance; the variation aspect of the program would give him something somewhat different than he'd seen before. The canopy quickly resolved itself into the image of a standard launch bay and a moment later, a controller's voice said, _"Transferring launch control to Viper One. Launch when ready."_

After launching, the cadet spent the next half centar battling Cylon Raiders and then doing various maneuvers that would typically get one grounded if performed in space. Three times he'd even gotten the freeze screen warning, where the words came up:

 _"You have attempted an unauthorized maneuver that would result in Viper failure and almost certain death to the Warrior attempting it. Do NOT attempt to perform this maneuver again, either in a Viper or in this simulation. Repeating this maneuver in this simulation will result in your score being penalized._

 _"Simulation will resume in ten microns._

 _"Ten. Nine. Eight…"_

It was a short time later when he was entering a power roll going after a particularly difficult Raider that everything went black.

"Frack! System failure now? Right before the end? Pogees!" Starbuck was grumbling to himself about missing out on what would have been his best score yet as he started to remove his simulator helmet. It was then that he heard the canopy open. "Hey, thanks! Help me with this, will ya'? What happened anyway?"

Instead of receiving the help he'd expected, something started pushing down on the helmet, preventing him from removing it, and several other somethings started pummeling him!

~BSG~

"Trainee Starbuck, Commander Kreil told me privately that you could be a handful, but I figured he was just trying to protect a favored student since he said you've been dating his daughter."

Starbuck's face and ears, already battered, bruised, and bloodied, reddened further on learning that his secret had been exposed to the academy commander, but Colonel Mosle continued without seeming to notice. "Oh, I assured Kreil that we don't put up with that type of felgercarb in this training course, and that if I caught you within 100 metrons of my daughter—if I had one—you'd never be seen again. However, I'd actually reached the point that I thought my impression had been proven wrong about that. Some of your instructors have said you have a certain swagger, but then again, what Warrior doesn't? All have said that you show great promise. Then you do this. Trainee, so you insist that you got those bruises falling out of the simulator?"

Starbuck almost bit his tongue before responding, "Yes, Colonel."

The senior officer shook his head and looked at his aide, who was taking notes. He said, "This is despite the facts that the simulator you used was apparently deactivated at the power panel rather than from within, that the emergency access latches on your canopy had been activated—from the outside, mind you—and that three people were seen, in the security vid review, entering and later leaving the SIM room just before you were discovered? Three people with hoods? Despite all of these strange coincidences, you insist you fell?"

"Very strange coincidences, sir, but yes. Sir."

Sighing, the colonel stared at Starbuck, long and hard. He finally sat up straight and moved close to his desk before saying, "Trainee, don't make me regret this, for if you do, you'll regret it a _whole_ lot more than I will."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "Captain Dorner, record this in the incident file. Trainee Starbuck was authorized to do an after-class SIM exercise. Due to problems with the equipment, that authorization is now suspended. The matter is resolved." Turning toward his aide he added, "And now, Captain, if you'll excuse us for a moment."

Dorner stepped out of the office. When the door closed, Mosle leaned forward toward Starbuck and said in a very low voice, "I know how you must want to win the upcoming flight competition, but if you come anywhere close to that facility during off-duty centars, you _will_ be on the next shuttle back to Caprica. Also, while I respect your covering for your fellow trainees, if I catch even a whiff of information that you've taken matters into your own hands instead of coming clean with me, you'll be on that same next shuttle, but this time in chains. Do I make myself clear, Trainee?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Go get some sleep, Trainee. You're back on duty in, ah, less than four centars, and you'll need all the rest you can get if you want to do well in the comp. Now, dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

"And send Dorner back in on your way out."

After giving word to the captain, Starbuck headed back to his quarters. The whole way, he was thinking about how he'd be able to repay Ensign Winnklas without getting caught.

By the time he sank into his bed a few centons later, he had a general plan. However, for it to have any chance of working, he'd have to find a way to speak with the big man alone without ending up in a fight that would end his career.

~BSG~

It was after class a couple of cycles later when Starbuck approached the instructor. "Lieutenant Karnesh, I have a technical question if you have a moment, sir."

Karnesh, who had in his prime been one of the best pilots in the Colonial Warrior Corps, had been watching the young cadet closely throughout the course and knew he had great potential, so he replied, "What is it, Trainee?"

"Well, sir, I've been doing some research on the inverse maneuver and how it can be more effectively applied in battle."

The Warrior looked skeptical but said, "Go on."

By the time Starbuck had finished, Karnesh was shaking his head as if the younger man didn't grasp the concept of what he was suggesting. When the cadet finally asked, "Sir, what do you think?" Karnesh went into great detail on why he thought it was a stupid and completely unworkable idea.

A bit later that evening, when Apollo saw Starbuck buried in the " _Colonial Viper Advanced Flight Specifications and Operations Manual_ " and doing some modeling on the computer, he decided to skip interrupting him and found another opponent for the evening round of pocketball.

~BSG~

It was three cycles later when the encounter finally occurred. In a corridor where the security camera had been knocked out of position, stood Winnklas, strangely without his usual backup. However, when Starbuck saw someone ahead at the end of the corridor, he glanced back and confirmed there was someone at the other end, too. He was steeling himself for the coming fight when the big man said, "Starbuck, we've got to talk."

The young cadet was surprised so he paused for a moment before responding. "I don't think so, Trainee—"

"That's Ensign to you!"

"Not here, it isn't. We're all just 'trainees' here, remember? But that doesn't matter anyway. We don't need to talk unless, that is, you're planning to apologize for the beat-down you and your friends gave me in the simulator a few cycles ago."

A tinge of fear seemed to cross Winnklas' face. "I didn't have anything to do with that," he claimed.

Starbuck smiled sardonically. "See, the Colonel may not have recognized you and your friends when you were caught on the vid monitor—yeah, you missed one. Sorry—but I did. He tried and tried to get me to give you up, but I refused since I have much bigger plans for the revenge I'm going to rain down on you."

Winnklas was shaking his head in denial, but Starbuck continued. "When the SIM died and the canopy popped open, I thought at first that it was one of the Techs there to help, but when someone started pushing down on my helmet, I knew what was coming, even if it was only a moment to prepare myself for it. You, on the other hand, won't have that luxury of time to prepare or the _privacy_ you gave me. That's the difference in us, Winnklas. You're a big, strong, brute-force type of guy, whereas, while I'm fairly big and fairly strong, too, I won't use my strength to make you regret messing with me. I'll use my brain and you'll regret it a whole lot more. See, you'll never know when what I have planned in return for you will happen. It could happen at any time and you'll never know when to expect it."

Winnklas was about to object when he saw one of his watchers wave and start walking toward them, blocking the view of an officer starting down the corridor. The big man started to walk away, only to hear Starbuck call after him, "Later, _Trainee_ Winnklas. Sometime later."

~BSG~

Cycle followed cycle and the trainees learned more new techniques with each that passed. The more experienced Warriors already knew some of the supposedly new maneuvers and were able to provide their personal input and insights to help the others. To Starbuck, Apollo, and the other cadet trainees, it was all new and they practically drank it in. They maximized their time on the simulators and eventually made several successful flights in Vipers where they got to practice many of their new skills.

During this time, Starbuck stayed away from Winnklas but made it a point of being seen by the big man on occasion. When the cadet caught the ensign's eye, he would give a little smirk-like smile and sometimes even a nod, usually causing Winnklas to quickly look away.

"I thought you said you had to stay away from him," said Apollo after catching such a case as they sat together in the mess hall.

"Away, yes," agreed Starbuck, "but staying really fresh in his thoughts is a totally different story."

~BSG~

The big event was held on the last cycle of their training. Colonel Mosle approached the lectern and then looked up at the assembly.

"Trainees, you've all learned a lot of valuable lessons that will increase your chances of surviving and being victorious when you face our Cylon enemies. While we will, of course, be holding more sessions of this training course in the future, you will have the opportunity to share your new knowledge and skills with your fellow Warriors when you return to your ships, stations, or bases to help us get it out to as many of our fighting men as possible."

Mosle received a boisterous round of supportive shouting and clapping before he held up his hand to calm the group.

"First, though, you'll be given the opportunity today to practice your skills in a two-part competitive session—"

Loud cheers interrupted the colonel, who laughed but again raised his hand. "It will take most of the cycle as it is, so here's Captain Dorner to explain the rules..."

~BSG~

When Apollo entered the mess hall at lunchtime, Starbuck waved him over. "So how'd your group flight go?"

"Flight? More like 'fight.' I'm glad they assigned us to groups for Part 1 rather than letting everyone choose since there was a good cross-section of experience."

"I don't know," replied Starbuck. "I could have used one or two more of the more experienced guys in my group."

"Starbuck, that's the point. You're always going to have some Warriors with more experience and some with less. We lost three members of our group as it was, including one of our most experienced guys, but I made it through."

"Enh, I know," groused Starbuck. "But we lost our two with the most experience so I had to take up all the slack."

Apollo laughed. "Well, thank the Lords it was all simulated. And that they had you there with them. Let's see this afternoon how we do versus those experienced guys."

Starbuck reported to SIM Room 2 at his assigned time to see Winnklas and four other trainees awaiting their SIM assignment. Winnklas frowned and glanced away when he saw the cadet enter, but it was then that Lieutenant Karnesh called them to order.

"Men, you'll all be flying the exact same mission with the exact same simulated wingman. You'll receive your mission instructions once you're in your Viper SIM and you'll have up to one centar to complete it. One more thing on that: the safety protocol overrides are off for this mission. You'll get the same warnings as you'd get in a real Viper, but none of the cutouts with explanations that have been flashing up on your screens. Finally, remember what the captain said earlier. Your score will be a combination of how successful you are in completing the mission, your completion time, and whether your wingman survives. If you get flamed—well, like in a real battle, it won't matter to you anyway so you'll get no score."

Karnesh looked at the Warriors standing before him. "Any questions? Good. Proceed to your Viper SIMs and suit up. Time starts on my mark."

When Starbuck approached his SIM, he caught Winnklas' eye. He grinned at the ensign, tapped his wrist chrono three times, and mouthed, "Now. It's time."

~BSG~

A red-faced Winnklas entered the mess hall quite some time after Starbuck arrived. He was obviously angry as he sat down across the table from the cadet.

"Starbuck! What did you do to my Viper SIM? You admitted it right before we started."

"Winnklas, I'm sorry. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"But you do! I'm not that good at reading lips but I understood what you said?"

"Did you? You may have understood the words, but you applied your own meaning to them. See, you've been expecting hell to come down on you as I promised but what you didn't understand was that I wouldn't be the one to do it directly. You'd do it to yourself."

"What? What do you mean?"

"You're a driven personality who sees things through your own Winnklas-colored lenses. You look at circumstances as you yourself would respond to them, thereby expecting the worst. What you don't seem to understand is that not everyone is like you, so that can be used against you. If things go wrong when you're expecting someone to strike back, you think you're being attacked and you become even more defensive and try to fight your 'enemy' rather than solving the real problem. Yes, I tapped my chrono and pantomimed 'It's time,' but I actually meant for the competition where I was going to kick your astrum. I didn't do anything to your simulator; any trouble you had was completely unrelated to anything I did."

Winnklas' face went slack. "Seriously?"

Starbuck grinned as he nodded. "Yep. It was all in here," he said as he tapped his temple with his index finger. "Oh, and considering that I' finished the simulation, successfully, and had been here for almost twenty centons before you arrived, I suspect that the astrum kicking is complete."

The ensign shook his head slowly as he cursed. Looking up at Starbuck, he added, "Cadet, you're a real piece of work but I think I understand what you're saying...and I'll try to learn from it. Truce?"

Winnklas held out his hand. Starbuck looked into his eyes for a moment before taking it and, on a shake, agreed, "Truce," just as he heard his name being called.

"Trainee Starbuck?" called Captain Dorner, who'd just entered the mess hall. On seeing the cadet, Dorner came over and said, "Starbuck, you're wanted in the colonel's office. Immediately."

"What? What did I do now?" mumbled Starbuck to himself as he rose from his chair. However, Winnklas overheard the comment and was chuckling to himself as Starbuck was led out of the mess hall.

~BSG~

On entering Mosle's office, Starbuck saw the colonel reading a report on his pad; the look on the colonel's face made it obvious that he wasn't happy. Starbuck stopped in front of the desk where Dorner pointed, stood to attention, and saluted. The colonel gave a half-hearted salute but continued reading without even looking up.

The cadet glanced down at the floor, which he suddenly realized looked vaguely familiar from more than just his visit earlier in the session. That looks a lot like the floor in Command—

"Trainee Starbuck, this is the analysis of your simulated individual mission this afternoon. Based on raw score alone, you did quite well, placing sixth out of forty-eight trainees. Everyone ahead of you also has at least three more years of experience than you, too."

"Thank you, Sir," replied Starbuck with a wide smile, but Mosle raised his hand.

"I'm not through, Trainee. I said raw score."

"What do you mean, Sir?"

"There are deductions for your persistence in trying to perform maneuvers for which the Viper is not rated."

"But they worked, Sir."

"Yes, but there's a reason for that. We had the safety protocols off so the SIM did its best imitation of what it thought you wanted; however, it didn't go so far as to rip itself apart as would most likely have happened in a real Viper in a real combat situation. Therefore, the judging committee and I have deducted 5 points for each of five violations—"

Starbuck started to object again, but Mosle held up his hand as he continued, "and 50 points for this one. If you had tried that in a real Viper at speed, you and the ship would have been ripped apart, lots of atoms scattered across space. That means the total deduct is 75 points, dropping you back…"

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Thanks for reading. Your feedback will be helpful and appreciated. _


	9. Stanza 5: Hazards

**Stanza 5: Hazards**

 _But dangers lurk, there is no peace;  
E'en when the end is last in sight,  
The watchful eye must never cease,  
Throughout that longest darkest night._

 ** _—The Spacefarer's Ode_**

* * *

The whole time he'd been in the cluster of little asteroids, Starbuck had been shifting his Viper almost constantly, but not for the reason he hoped the Cylons would think. Instead, with his scanner focused as much behind him as ahead, he'd slowly been cutting his speed and avoiding asteroids behind him. They were overtaking and passing him, going by only slightly faster than his ship. Now, with barely 20 microns to closing, he was behind as much of the group as he could get, so he increased his speed ever so slightly until he matched that of the asteroids once more.

At 10 microns to closing, Starbuck began to jink his Viper back and forth in earnest, similar to what he'd done with it before, but now it was in hopes of keeping the three incoming Raiders from getting a targeting lock on his ship. Still out of range, he refrained from firing, as much to avoid damaging any of the little asteroids in his Cylon reception committee as to avoid giving the tinheads any thoughts of veering off.

"This is it. The Lords be with me."

At about one micron to closing range, the Cylons opened fire and Starbuck abruptly flipped off his IFF transponder. That would greatly reduce his ship's image on their screens and possibly mess with their targeting software. He hoped, however, that this would not give the Cylon scanners enough time to adjust to interpret the incoming flurry of asteroids just ahead of him.

When they didn't adjust, Starbuck commented to himself, "Tinheads, meet the spattergun," while thinking of the multi-projectile Colonial infantry weapon used for shredding opponents and making quick work of fortified doors. As he did, the center Raider took the first hit from a solid rock that was about 10 centimetrons in diameter. It struck just above the leading edge of the top side of the ship, less than a metron from the left laser. The resulting blast tore the weapon from its housing and ripped away part of the outer wing. However, with no damage to its engines, the blast drove the Raider into a dive to its right, where, about a half micron later, another asteroid only slightly larger than the first smashed directly into the now exposed top of the cockpit. The explosion that followed blew the Raider into countless pieces.

The damaged Raider's maneuver and subsequent explosion had forced the ship on Starbuck's left to veer away to avoid being hit by the first but some of the debris from the explosion struck the vessel. It spun away, barely avoiding a couple of hurtling rocks, and quickly moved out of range, but the Warrior had no time to focus on it. The one to his right was still on a direct course toward his Viper and was firing!

Starbuck continued his jinking, preventing the Cylon from getting a targeting lock, and he fired off three quick blasts that caused this Raider to arc away, too. He was starting to angle toward the ship when a jolt from on his right wing told him that he'd bumped into another small asteroid traveling along beside him. He had to end his pursuit of the undamaged Raider and work to get away from the remaining asteroids in the area, or, like the first Raider, none of it would matter to him anymore.

~BSG~

Still worried and unable to sleep, Cassiopeia slowly made her way toward the Bridge, hoping to get any new word on Starbuck's status.

As she walked, Athena's words were on her mind.

 _"Your man is a Warrior. He'll do what it takes to come home to you, but you have to accept that sometimes the odds are just too much. Just pray that this isn't the cycle when the odds are too much for_ him _._ "

Finding a viewport, she stopped to look out at the stars. Somewhere out there in all that vastness, Starbuck was battling his way home to her. He had to be, the odds be damned!

She wrapped her arms around herself as if it was Starbuck comforting her but the tears she'd been fighting were too much, slipping down her cheeks. She tried hard to fight them off, but it was no use; she felt another run its course before she saw a maintenance worker coming down the corridor. She quickly wiped the tears away and tried to dry her eyes before the uniformed woman passed by. She took a deep breath, held it for a few microns, and then slowly exhaled as the worker passed without a word.

Cassie refocused her attention on the stars in the distance. Of course, they were far, far away, and Starbuck, patrolling in the current system, was nowhere near any of them, but it made her feel just a little better to think that he was making his way home to her from such lengths.

" _He'll do what it takes to come home to you,"_ Athena had said, but as Cassiopeia studied those words, she suddenly shivered as a cold chill passed through her. It was then she realized there was another side to that. While he was out there fighting for her, she needed to be on the Galactica fighting for him. She set her jaw determinedly and headed toward the Bridge.

~BSG~

By the time he'd gotten to an apparently clearer area, neither of the Raiders was visible. He tucked in just a few metrons behind a rock that was only slightly bigger than his Viper and powered down, leaving only power to his ship's computer and control panels, before letting out a sigh. Only then did he allow himself to study his situation from a logistical standpoint rather than the tactical that had controlled his actions for the past few centons.

Six Raiders had been destroyed and two others appeared to be badly damaged. That, he knew, left three, since he had no way to be sure how bad the damage to the two ships really was or if they had any way of repairing any problems they might have.

Looking at his controls, he realized that his fuel supply was almost to the critical point. With his current velocity, he'd be able to alter course and do some acceleration with his turbothrusters, but the journey would take a while. To make matters worse, though, his battle still wasn't over; he would probably need every bit of fuel he had to destroy the remaining Raiders.

 _If they'd only come to me_ , he thought, but he knew that inviting them by using his comm or turning on the IFF was out of the question. They would come, but the element of surprise would be lost and he would likely be lost soon thereafter. _No, I wait and watch. And pray._

As the temperature in his cockpit started to fall, he searched the asteroid belt for his enemies, but his eyes would allow him to see little beyond the immediate vicinity and his big asteroid friends, the Arley family, were nowhere in sight. Still, he searched, for, as the old hymn said, dangers lurked everywhere and the watchful eye must never cease.

~BSG~

Cassiopeia entered the Bridge at a quick pace, but her face fell almost immediately.

It was still Third Shift so Commander Adama and Colonel Tigh were both on sleep period, and even Athena had left to get some sleep. After having already been to the Bridge earlier, she got a few strange looks, but she finally saw someone she knew.

"Hi, Anja, excuse me. Has there been any word from Starbuck's patrol?

The Third Shift flight controller looked up and shook her head slowly. "Sorry, Cassiopeia. It's still out and not scheduled to be back for several more centars. I can't tell you more than that."

"Thank you. Who's in charge this shift? While the Commander and the Colonel are off duty?"

Anja laughed quietly. "They're never _really_ off duty, but I think you want the Officer of the Bridge. That's Captain Antarres, but—I hate to say it—he won't want to talk to you. He's all business and not exactly a friendly type, if you know what I mean."

"Thanks, Anja. It's important so I'm going to have to take my chance."

"Good luck" came the whispered reply.

Cassie was reluctant to take her "problem" to the Captain. When he found out its nature, he would only laugh and kick her off the Bridge. Still, she had to fight for her man.

"Captain Antarres, excuse me. I need to speak with you for a centon."

Three centons later, Cassiopeia was in tears as two black-shirted fleet security officers were practically dragging her off the Bridge. It would have been sooner, she knew, but it had taken them almost that long to arrive.

~BSG~

With the cockpit dampening the light of the distant stars, it was a much closer pulsing glow that attracted his gaze.

Damage the Raider had suffered was sparking, lighting up part of the forward section of the wing, as it hunted for its prey. Unfortunately, there wasn't much time between the sighting and the moment it would be right on top of him. If he was lucky, it would slip by without him being seen, but at such a short range, Starbuck fully expected the Cylons' sensors to pick him up and start blasting.

He could use his maneuvering thrusters to turn his Viper directly toward the incoming Raider and be lined up for a shot, but if anything at all went wrong, he might lose his forward velocity and then never make it home. Therefore, with only microns to go before the Raider was in range, he used the thrusters to shift his ship sideways, allowing him to move from behind to more on the left side of the big rock he was trailing. When he was where he wanted to be, he fired up his Viper's engines and hit the turbo button for less than a micron, sending his ship around and ahead of the asteroid.

"Oh! That got his attention," exclaimed Starbuck as the Raider responded. However, with the asteroid cutting off his view just a moment later, the warrior had to hope that the Cylons had really fallen for his trick and were continuing on after him. He immediately but only momentarily hit the IM button to slow his speed slightly and then counted to three.

As he reached three, the Raider arced past the asteroid following Starbuck's original course. Starbuck hit the turbo for a moment to adjust his course and then started firing. On his third blast, the damaged Cylon ship exploded into a ball of flames. He was about to let out a victory yell but that's when he saw a laser blast flash past his cockpit. With a second Raider—one he hadn't seen—right on his tail, his only option was to hit the turbothruster.

~BSG~

For almost a centar, two ships played a deadly game of cat and mouse in the confines of the asteroid belt. Matching the speed of the hurtling rocks to the extent possible, the ships dodged in and out, using the bigger boulders as cover while trying to find the other ship without being seen and without being hit by any of the smaller asteroids.

In addition to his dwindling fuel supply, Starbuck's challenge was made tougher by the Cylon pilot being extremely good, seemingly having learned from the warrior's actions in the battle. The Cylon was now even adopting some of the same tactics. With the Raider apparently behind him, potentially deadly asteroids all around, and the fuel situation, the Viper's usual advantages over the Cylon fighter craft were largely nullified.

The sound of his teeth chattering in the freezing cockpit caused him to shake to try to warm himself and, in doing so, probably saved his life. His eye caught a flash of sunlight reflect off of the pursuing Raider that had finally picked up his location on its sensors. Starbuck restarted his engines at once and hit the turbos, shooting forward with the Raider in pursuit. Again, the pilot of the Raider seemed to know his moves and mirrored him perfectly.

"Frack! What is with this guy?" he commented to himself.

With time running out and his fuel reserve dwindling, Starbuck went through his options again. With the Raider playing it cautious, holding well back, none of the usual efforts were likely to work. Therefore, he continued to limp along like the proverbial wounded avion, letting the Raider follow, all the while leading it away from the fleet as he considered one last idea borne of those long ago times in some training class or another.

"Computer, programming mode," he said. On receiving the prompt, he gave the instructions.

"Invalid parameters," replied the programming. "Instructions denied."

"Parameter override," said Starbuck, following up with the override code. When he had again completed the instructions, the program objected again, leading Starbuck to issue one last order to complete the programming.

Several centons passed as the Raider slowly crept up on him, looking for the kill. When his scanners gave the warning he'd set, he said, "Here goes. Computer, program execute."

With the computer in charge of the ship, the turbothrusters fired and his Viper shot forward; they cut out three microns later. The Raider accelerated, too, but more slowly. The Viper flight program wasn't done, though. With level dampers in precise position, the left engine suddenly reversed its thrust as the right engine fired forward with exactly equal thrust. The firing was for less than a tenth of a micron before both cut out and maneuvering thrusters engaged.

Starbuck was slammed sideways with the most force he ever remembered. Feeling almost crushed by the massive twisting force, he barely retained consciousness as his Viper spun 180 degrees about its centroid, leaving him now going continuing in the same direction as before at almost exactly the same speed, but now, the ship was facing the opposite direction. With the Raider almost within range and unaware of what had just happened, Starbuck hit the turbos for a moment to cut his speed and allow the Cylon to close on him. It was for only a micron though, for he targeted and fired two quick shots, flaming the Raider.

"Gotcha!" he cried. Still feeling woozy, he added, "And never, ever again on _that_ maneuver!"

No longer worried about time but very concerned about any asteroids in the area, he used the maneuvering thrusters to slowly reverse his ship's direction once more without losing any more of his speed. When finally facing forward again, he nudged the turbos for a moment to increase his velocity slightly and come around as he turned on the forward sensors and began searching for approaching asteroids.

~BSG~

Heading back toward the spot of the initial encounter, Starbuck had his Viper's computer triangulate the last known direction of Raider Number 6 and the direction from which the Raiders had first come. It wasn't long before the computer made a sound and displayed three large asteroids it had detected in that general area as Starbuck and Cree had initially arrived.

Looking at the green marks spots on the monitor, he started plotting a course toward them, swinging well around them to approach the back one from the rear with the asteroid flow.

"If I'm lucky, they'll have their listening post on one of those three. If I'm really lucky, there won't be any more Raiders. If not, or if there's a Base Star nearby…well, Viper, it will have been nice knowing you."

~BSG~

A very tired, very cold Starbuck stifled a yawn as he moved in on the second of the three target asteroids.

He'd made a couple of revolutions around the first and found nothing, so he'd goosed his turbos on the back side and then shot around the asteroid toward the second, allowing him to slowly overtake that next big rock with his ship powered down. If he ran into any asteroids from behind, he could only hope that the speed differential would be small enough that it wouldn't damage his ship.

He was only a few kilometrons behind when he saw a shiny communications tower sticking up on the sunny side of the asteroid, though he couldn't see the bottom of the tower.

"A communications base. What else do you tinheads have down there? Or up here?"

He saw nothing nearby so he used tiny jets of his maneuvering thrusters to adjust his position to align on the tower. It was critical that the tower be destroyed first to keep them from sending a message to any of their fellow Cylons.

As he came around the asteroid, topping its horizon, the Cylon base came into view. There was a dome-shaped building next to the tower, and a hut-like structure that was similar to Cylon hangars he'd seen in the past. Several Cylons were working on what appeared to be a damaged Raider on a small runway next to the hut.

"This is for Cree," said Starbuck as he powered up his ship.

It was at that moment that a laser turret lit up and started to rotate toward him.

Starbuck started firing.

~BSG~

 ** _Author's Note:_**

 _Many thanks to all my readers and in particular to max2013, avieryfriend, GreyGregory14, vaughn28, and BMSH for the reviews on recent chapters. Getting such feedback helps me better understand what I might be doing right (or doing wrong) and helps me improve as a writer. Thank you._

 _We never saw thrusters on the Vipers on the original show but with three engines, they would almost certainly have been required even with finely tuned internal dampers, which I've also referenced in this chapter. Thrusters were seen in the reimagined series, and I believe Starbuck's reverse-rotate maneuver was performed by Kara "Starbuck" Thrace in one of the episodes I've seen._

 _One chapter remains._


	10. Postlude: Resolutions

**Postlude: Resolutions**

 _When vic'try won, the journey done,_ _  
_ _The weary soul at long last rests,_ _  
_ _But mem'ries live, when new reached sun,_ _  
_ _Of that dark night, the countless tests._

 ** _—The Spacefarer's Ode_**

Completing a second orbit around the little asteroid, the Viper topped the horizon and Starbuck quickly fired three more shots into the last building and some type of tank. He was awarded with several more secondary explosions, including a big blast from the tank that threw up a great deal of debris. He finally took a moment to smile. The buildings and antennas were destroyed and no other targets were visible.

With the Cylon base in ruins, he eased his stick to the right and amped up his scanners to look for any asteroids that might be crossing his path, or, more correctly since he was going faster, across whose path he might be crossing. There was nothing visible in the immediate vicinity so he used a small amount of his dwindling fuel reserves to increase his speed.

"Okay, computer, let's plot a course for the _Galactica_ ," he said aloud as he entered the data. When the course came up on the screen, he saw that he would be traveling near where it had all begun nearly nine centars earlier. He made a mental note to say a prayer for his late, young wingmate after he exited the asteroid belt. For now, he was too busy watching for asteroids.

~BSG~

The centars passed with agonizing slowness as he constantly scrutinized his path ahead for anything that might damage or destroy his ship. Now he was finally nearing the edge of the belt and the last of the hurtling rocks in their orbits. His fuel situation was critical, so he'd saved the last little bit to be able to get one more speed boost after being in open space. At the maximum speed he'd be able to attain, it was going to take almost three times as long to get back to the fleet as it had to get to the belt.

"It'll be as slow as Yoeletide, but slow is far better than never getting there at all," he said aloud, hoping that the fleet, despite its slow speed, would help him out by making its way toward him.

The all-clear finally sounded; he was out of the belt. Still, he kept his scanners on in case there were any unexpected outliers that might cause trouble. That was almost always the case in a system, though, so he did a long, calming exhale to help himself relax. Reaching that calm state that might allow him to enter sleep period, he almost jumped out of his seat when, several microns later, his comm unexpectedly sounded.

 _Krieeeh...krieeeh...krieeeeeeh._

"What the—the comm system! I never turned off the ship-to-ship channel after Cree was killed." The sound of the static even seemed to stab at him, reminding him of his late wingmate's name.

Again, several microns later, it sounded again.

 _Krieeeh...krieeeeeeh...krieeeh._

"That...that's not natural!"

 _Krieeeh...krieeeh...krieeeeeeh._

Starbuck's fingers practically flew across his flight computer, putting the comm system into triangulation mode. It took several centons since he was heading away from the apparent source, but the signal kept repeating ever few microns. When he finally had a general fix, he looked at his fuel level again, shook his head, and then moved his stick to take him back toward the asteroid belt.

"This trip may take as long as Yoeletide after next," he groused as he moved farther away from the Galactica and the fleet by the micron. Still, there was something else out there and, before he reported back, he had to find the source...

~BSG~

There were no so-called landmarks or other celestial objects that looked familiar but the flight computer's computations told him that he was in the same vicinity, relative to the moving asteroids, as where they'd first entered the belt, and near the source of the mysterious electronic emissions. Throughout the time getting back to this spot, he'd been concentrating on three issues.

First was his fuel supply. If he conserved his momentum and minimized his maneuvering, he'd eventually make it home, with the _Galactica_ and the fleet hopefully closing on his position in the next few cycles. However, if he ran into anything unexpected, including any other Raiders, he'd be able to fight effectively for a centon or two at most before the last of his fuel would be gone. When that happened, he would then be moving along in the last direction for however long it took for an asteroid to cream him or the Cylons to line up behind him and blast him from the heavens. He could only pray that he'd gotten them all.

His limited fuel supply contributed to the second problem. He was technically under a communications blackout so his search for the source of the strange signal would have to be conducted by his scanners with only straight-line triangulation. That worked well when the source signal was somewhere well off to the side, but was fairly ineffective when one was heading straight toward it. Of course, it would immediately become apparent if he passed it, but then that fuel situation would bite him again if he had to start doubling back to find the signal's source.

The other thought was of Cassie. He should have been back by now, and each centon longer that it took was another centon that he was afraid she was worrying. With little experience dealing with the vagaries of a Warrior's life, would she be strong enough to hold up? Or would she start thinking of all the things that could go wrong and become a quivering wreck? Or might she even give up and decide to move on, leaving worries about Starbuck to some other unfortunate soul? He'd seen it happen all three ways to women involved with fellow Warriors; he'd also seen the devastation that could result to those left behind when Warriors like Cree failed to return. Cassiopeia was strong, he knew, but was she strong enough to still be there for him when he finally got back?

Watching the signal strength on his display, he saw it appearing to get stronger so he started searching the enhanced visual display offered by his cockpit canopy even as the computer was analyzing the scan results. There, just ahead were the same asteroids they'd passed just after entering the belt.

"—ck! I hope...krieeh...getting this. I can't ...krieeh...myself."

For the second time in the past few centars, Starbuck was surprised by the comm system, but this time he was also filled with hope rather than dread when the short-range ship-to-ship channel sounded.

"Cree! Cree! Is that you, buddy?"

"—buck! You're alive! I thought sure they...krieeeh...ten you."

"Me? I thought you got killed as soon as they showed up! Quick! Send me your coordinates."

"Krieeeh...eat. I didn't get that. What?"

"Your coordinates! Send them. I must be right on top of you."

"Gotcha! Incoming."

"What happened?" asked Starbuck as he fed the location into his system and then watched a dot appear on the side of an asteroid just a short distance ahead.

"They were on my tail so I figured out a trick based on what you said. I blasted a little asteroid and used the explosion to provide cover while I did a quick set down on the dark side of another one. I was going to take off and come help you but I kind'a messed up my Viper setting it down harder than expected. I can't launch it."

"What's your supply situation and is there a safe place for me to land?"

"I'm good on air, food, and water, but it feels almost as cold as Aracta, even though I've struggled into my envirosuit. For landing, I think there's a little level strip just a few metrons from where I crash, ah, landed. I can go out and make sure it's big enough."

Starbuck stifled a laugh. He knew there was something he liked about this kid. "Go find out and get back as quick as you can. Be careful, the light gravity can make things tough and very dangerous. I'm using the last of my fuel to slow to match your asteroid's speed while you do it."

~BSG~

Starbuck's Viper was parked about 10 metrons from Cree's damaged ship. They'd used Starbuck's tow cable winch to partially right Cree's ship, and then lowered the surviving landing gear by hand to finish getting it level on its belly. The tow cable was now rigged tight between them. Cree had questioned why when he saw Starbuck taking such pains to get all the slack out of the line.

"Yeah, it needs to be tight when we start," Starbuck had said. Not wanting to scare the cadet about how a sudden jerk on the line could possibly snap the cable making it impossible for him to get home or to even potentially rip Cree's Viper apart, he'd added, "Just trust me; it's pretty complicated so I'll explain the physics of it when we get home."

They'd done their best to level out a few rough spots between the ships. Though he couldn't see them through the envirosuit helmet, Starbuck was quite sure Cree's eyes were wide when Starbuck used a few carefully placed shots from his laser pistol to aid in the grading effort.

The two men were now busy transferring fuel from Cree's ship to Starbuck's. With the extremely light gravity of the asteroid, every step was dangerous so it was an even slower, more grueling process than it might otherwise have been.

"Starbuck, are you sure about this?" asked Cree apprehensively through the suit's comm system.

The older Warrior paused, looking over it again. No, just like with the cable, he really wasn't sure, not at all, but he also wasn't about to worry the young cadet and risk his resulting uncertainty causing additional trouble they didn't need. Cree needed all the confidence he could get, however misplaced. Therefore, he replied, "No problem at all, Cree. It'll be simple once we get off this rock. We'll be home in no time."

 _Lords be willing,_ he added to himself. _If we get off of it._

"I think this should be the last batch for the fuel transfer. My ship should have enough to get us out of here and allow us to get home before Yoeletide."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Really bad old-Warrior joke, much better forgotten. Here, start checking your ship's environmental controls while I finish this part.

When the refueling was done and Cree's check was complete, both men climbed in their cockpits, warmed up their ships, and shrugged out of their envirosuits.

"Are you ready to do this," asked Starbuck.

"Yes, sir! Launch when ready!"

With his thrusters dialed back as low and slow as possible to get them off the asteroid, Starbuck said, "Hold on!" as his thumb pressed down on the turbo button to send his ship shooting forward, pulling Cree and his Viper right behind.

~BSG~

A few centars later, Starbuck was finally getting to take a rest period. Cadet Cree had chattered nervously, seemingly endlessly, at first but with increasing confidence as Starbuck gave explanations and pointers to help him. After having almost given himself up for lost, Cree now realized that he would probably survive after all if Starbuck's explanation was correct on how they could slow their ships to land.

"Cree, everything's set correctly so I'm setting the autopilot to keep it that way. Just keep your ship just like it is and we'll be home before too long."

"Will do, sir. Sleep well."

Starbuck closed his eyes and was almost out when his scanner sounded. He didn't have time to do more than open his eyes and see four ships heading straight toward him when his ship-to-ship comm channel sounded.'

"Hey, Starbuck! It's Wink. Is this a private party or can just anybody join?"

~BSG~

After being escorted back to the Galactica by Winnklas and three other Red Squadron pilots, the landing was a little rougher than he preferred but Starbuck was glad to be back on the _Galactica._ He popped his canopy and looked back to see the maintenance crew helping Cree out of his Viper as other maintenance techs were already starting to disassemble it to ready it for repairs. Smiling and shaking his head, he was starting to get out of his Viper when he heard a familiar cry.

"Starbuck!"

Dressed in her med tech uniform, Cassiopeia looked quite out of place running across the hangar and up the portasteps that had been wheeled into place for Starbuck's exit. He made it out to the top step just as she got there, stopping just one step below him.

"Starbuck, I was so worried! I made a scene on the Bridge and even woke up the Commander! I'm not sure if he did it because of me but he sent a flight of Vipers out to find you. And they said you didn't even need them!"

"Nope," agreed Starbuck looking down at her, but not adding how much he'd needed them earlier. Smiling, he put his arms around her and picked her up, pulling her close. "But I can't tell you how much I appreciate the thought and that you're here for me."

"Always," she replied. "I'll always be here for you, so you'll always come back."

"You know I will," he agreed before leaning in to kiss her.

There were whistles and cheers around the maintenance bay, but Starbuck was lost in the moment and didn't pay them any attention at all. He was back home, right where he wanted to be.

 _The End_

* * *

 ** _Author's Notes:_**

 _Whew! Done! Sorry this took a lot longer to complete than I would have ever envisioned but real life's been very busy. Therefore, I want to thank everyone who's read this story, either as it's being posted or those who will read it now that it's complete. Thanks, too, to those who've offered encouragement with your reviews, comments, favorites, and follows. Those mean so much to a writer and often help us keep going when the problems start showing up in the story (as is often the case, including in this one)._

 _I have parts of two new Battlestar Galactica stories written, but it will be a while before either premieres. I'll also be continuing my collection of Battlestar one-shots, "Through Other Eyes," as time and circumstances allow._

 _Since a "Colonial hymn" was being used to tie into the story, musical elements were used to mark the chapters. Stanzas are common, but some may not be familiar with the intermezzo. Originally Italian, the definition of intermezzo (plural: intermezzos or intermezzi) from Merriam-Webster's online dictionary is:_

1 **:** a short light entr'acte

2 a **:** a movement coming between the major sections of an extended musical work (such as an opera)

b **:** a short independent instrumental composition

3 **:** a usually brief interlude or diversion

 _Below is my complete, original poem that served as that "Colonial hymn" and the original idea for this story. I tried to tie elements of the poem in well enough that it makes sense; you, the reader, will have to decide as to whether I succeeded._

 **The Spacefarer's Ode** **  
**By V'Starius Travelerian (aka VStar Traveler)  
 _A Colonial Warrior's Hymn_

 **Stanza 1:**  
When one would cross to distant star,  
Across dark space 'tween points of light,  
Til man, alone, discerns how far,  
How cold and silent is the night.

 **Stanza 2:**  
No warmth, no sound, through darkness deep,  
The trav'ler brave must onward fight,  
To cross that gap, his vow to keep,  
But silent, cold, is that long night.

 **Stanza 3:**

O'er deepest dark he blindly goes,  
For on he strives, let come what might,  
What danger waits he never knows,  
For silent, cold, that deadly night.

 **Stanza 4:**  
Driving onward toward that goal,  
Lonely goes one toward that sight,  
That distant star that warms one's soul,  
What comfort gives that growing light.

 **Stanza 5:** **  
**But dangers lurk, there is no peace;  
E'en when the end is last in sight,  
The watchful eye must never cease,  
Throughout that longest darkest night.

 **Stanza 6:** **  
**When vic'try won, the journey done,  
The weary soul at long last rests,  
But mem'ries live when new reached sun,  
Of that dark night and countless tests.

 _Finally, if you're looking for your next story to read, please consider checking out any of my Battlestar Galactica stories you haven't had a chance to read. Suggested reading order is in my profile. If you're interested in other fandoms, I also have stories for The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr., Elder Scrolls: Skyrim, Fafhrd & the Gray Mouser, The High Chaparral, The Lone Ranger, and Hogan's Heroes._

 _Thanks again, and happy reading,_

 _VST_


End file.
